


our nights as magic

by pieii



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: :], Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Baking, Best Friends, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Gay, Han Jisung | Han is a Sweetheart, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Lee Minho | Lee Know is Whipped, Lee Minho | Lee Know is a Sweetheart, M/M, Non-Idol AU, Pining, Some angst, Stray Kids Sharing A Single Braincell, Witchcraft, also just, everything else is SO gay u will .. be gay, forehead kissing because im gay and crave tenderness, he is the most precious boy in the UNIVERSE, i mean .... so is sungie, just because, kissin, literally like one scene, lots and lots of love, many vine references because im me, minhos eyes hold galaxies u heard it here first folks !!, they cute, when i say lino is a sweetheart ....... i MEAN it, witch jisung cause we deserve it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:48:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 46,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22550518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pieii/pseuds/pieii
Summary: Jisung bakes too many cookies, loves his friends more than anything in the world, and does his best to keep the secret that's as a big a part of him as the chubby cheeks Felix squishes so much.And then ... and then there's Minho.He's just magic himself, really.(Jisung would know.)
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 250
Kudos: 609
Collections: Minsung





	1. healing takes time

**Author's Note:**

> hello my lovelies <3
> 
> i've been working on this boy for over a year ! and now it's finally finished !!
> 
> it's really been a source of warmth n comfort for me and i hope it can be the same for you
> 
> lmk what u think !! local fool craves validation :)
> 
> playlist in the end notes like always (i'm splitting it up between the chapters cause it's . Long)
> 
> the recipes in here are tried and true by yours truly (if you make any of them ur legally obligated to send me some)
> 
> (disclaimer: the lemon cake is a recipe i made for french class in sophomore year, meaning i translated the recipe from french and guessed at words and amounts instead of looking them up)
> 
> for home.

Lavender for healing: lemon cake

1 c flour

½ c sugar

3 eggs, separated

1 pinch salt

2 tsp baking powder

⅛ tsp baking soda

⅓ c butter, melted and cooled

zest of 1 lemon

1 c lemon juice

powdered sugar

4 sprigs of lavender

To prepare lavender:

Press lavender, and extract juice.

Jisung doesn’t have a garden—it’s too much upkeep, and his schedule can be unpredictable sometimes. He walks out of his house at nine, canvas tote bag slung over his shoulder and high-tops laced up halfway. It’s cool out, and foggy, and he shivers. It’ll probably warm up later in the day, he thinks, but for now his jean jacket’ll have to do.

It does warm up considerably when he steps out of the shadow cast on the uneven sidewalk, so there’s a spring in his step as he starts on the well-versed route through town.

It’s pretty today, even more so than usual—the sunlight trickling through the clouds reminds Jisung of how light looks patching through water, and there’s green curling its way up in between the cracks of the pavement.

His local farmers’ market is underneath a highway, and bursting with life. There are colorful stalls and colorful people; it’s one of his favorite places. The air smells like the meat grilling at the vendors’ stalls and gasoline from the cars above and around and the fresh scent emanating from all the plants being sold.

There are familiar faces all around. Jisung stops at the tea shop’s stall first.

“Oh, hey Jisung!” Hyunjin says, waving Jisung over once he’s close enough to hear him. “The usual?”

Jisung nods, and places his thermos in Hyunjin’s outstretched hand.

“How’s it been going for you?” Jisung asks. It’s been a little while since they’ve seen each other; he’s been busy at home, and hasn’t had time to spend here. Hyunjin smiles, and shrugs.

“Eh. ‘S been alright. Momo’s gonna start working again next week, since it’s been getting busier around, with the weather getting warmer and all. Aside from that? Hmm. Nothing spe—oh, wait, no! That’s not true at all! I adopted a cat last Thursday, so Kkami won’t be lonely when I’m away! Her name’s Petunia, and I love her.”

“Oh, that’s awesome! Tell her I say hello, then. How is she?”

“She kinda hates me, I think.” Hyunjin reaches for the honey and a spare spoon. “But hopefully she’ll stop soon.”

“Wishing you the best, then!” Hyunjin hands back Jisung’s Yeti and leans against the counter. The cute pins on the top hem of his apron shine in the light.

“What about you? Anything new I need to know about immediately?”

“Well? It’s kinda been routine for me lately, too. I’ve … ah. I’ve been trying out some new recipes, though! I’m actually here to get ingredients for them.”

“When’s the cookbook coming out?” Hyunjin asks, words taking on a teasing tone. “I feel like me, Kkami, and Petunia have all been waiting for it for all our,” he takes a break to count on his fingers, eyebrows furrowing, before, “eleven lives combined.”

Jisung laughs, shifting his weight onto one foot, then the other. “Maybe in another eleven, you’ll check the mail, and I’ll have sent you a signed cookbook in the mail from my two-million-dollar Food Network kitchen.”

Hyunjin sighs, resting his head in his palm, then blows his bangs out of his eyes. They flop right back down in the same place. “Maybe.”

Then Jisung sees out of the corner of his eye someone standing awkwardly beside him, clearly waiting for their turn in line. So he faces Hyunjin, offering another smile. “I’ll see you later, Jinnie! Kiss Petunia for me!”

“She’ll claw my eyes out, but I’d endure anything for you,” Hyunjin retaliates, straightening up, and then Jisung’s on his way.

Sana’s busy with customers when he arrives, so they don’t get to say hi beyond a smile, but Jisung isn’t too bothered. He can always come back. And he will. So he carefully nestles his bananas and lemons into the pocket of his bag so they don’t roll around and get bruised and bids Jihyo good day.

She wishes him luck on whatever he’s baking in response. It’s nice to get back into the swing of things.

Jisung stops for a jar of honey and a box of dried mango, and some candles because you can never have too many. He goes to the florist stall last, and by then it’s warmed up considerably, just like he predicted. The spread of flowers is, as always, impressively colorful, but it seems especially bright today.

Jisung bounces over to Chan, who’s writing something down in a torn-up notebook.

“Chan-hyung!”

Chan glances up, and his features automatically arrange themselves into a smile. The sight warms Jisung more than the day ever could.

“Hey, Sung, where’ve you been? We’ve missed seeing you around.”

“I’ve just been busy, y’know. Work, and everything.”

“Well, it’s good to have you back.” Chan claps a hand on Jisung’s shoulder. “Whatcha making this time?”

“Lemon cake!” Jisung says, beaming.

“Ooh, lemon cake?” comes a voice from behind Jisung, and before Jisung can turn around there’s an arm slung around his shoulders and a chin resting on his shoulder.

“Hey, Felix!”

“Are you gonna bring us some lemon cake?” Felix asks, batting his eyes and swaying on his feet, bringing Jisung with him.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Hey!” Felix pouts, and Chan laughs. “What are you here for, then, if not to bring us food?”

“I’m here to bother you, of course.”

Felix laughs his breathless laugh, brushing his hair back over his forehead, before leaving Jisung to stand next to Chan behind the counter as Chan steps away to help someone.

“What’re you here for besides that?”

“I need some lavender, if you have it.”

“We do have it. How much d’you need, Hannie?” Felix sidles past Chan, lightly tapping Chan’s hip so he’ll move over.

“Like, four sprigs.”

Felix holds up four sprigs. “Are these an okay size?”

“Yep!” They’re pretty big; he’ll probably end up having some juice left over. So Felix grins, then grabs the twine and wrapping before coming back over in front of Jisung.

“The other day, Hannie, you won’t believe it, there were police here! Apparently that group, the DWS, was accusing someone of being a witch and, like, threatening them!”

The warmth of the day seems to vanish as Jisung feels ice-cold panic bloom in his stomach. He takes a deep breath.

“Can you imagine? Witches, here.” Felix continues, shaking his head and tying a neat bow on the twine before straightening up. Jisung barely has time to school his panicked expression into a disbelieving one before Felix meets his eyes.

“Ah, when will they learn that witch hunting is illegal?” Jisung shakes his head, trying to keep his voice even.

“I know! Like, witches aren’t even a threat anymore. I doubt any are dumb enough to even walk around here anymore, especially after what happened two years ago.”

A lump in Jisung’s throat forms at that, and he takes a long sip of his tea before clearing his throat. “Yeah. And even if they were here, they wouldn’t cause trouble, or, like, hurt anyone.”

“Exactly!” Felix’s eyes are round as he nods enthusiastically. He hands Jisung his lavender, and Jisung delicately places it in his bag. “Really, it was crazy. Hopefully it'll be more peaceful around, now, though.”

“Yeah,” Jisung agrees, voice small. “Hope so.” He waits a second, grasping for something to say that'll change the subject, but, luckily, Felix does it for him.

“Anyways, did you see that JJP are having their comeback on the fourteenth? Just them, with _Tomorrow, Today_! You should come over and watch!”

“Really? I haven't kept up with GOT7 lately,” Jisung laughs. The ice slips away; it leaves a chill in his fingertips that he hopes will follow. “Been pretty busy. That's Thursday, right?”

“Yep! I'll text you more about it, but I think the stage is on at six? Maybe. I'll text you.”

“I'll make something to bring,” Jisung says, and he enjoys the way Felix brightens.

“Aw, really? Don't do it just ‘cause I was pestering you about it. Only if you're sure.”

Jisung nods. “I know. But I wanna bring something!” He leaves a dollar coin on the table, then flashes a peace sign. “Okay, I'm gonna get going, but I'll see you!” He raises his voice slightly to call, “Bye, Chan-hyung!” at Chan before walking a few steps backwards away from the table and losing himself in the flow of people.

Jisung clears off his counter, placing his wooden cutting board on it before carefully lifting the springs of lavender out of his bag and unwrapping the meticulously placed wax paper around them.

He unpacks the rest of his bag, putting the apples away in the fruit basket next to the stove and the honey and mango in his cabinet. One candle goes on the kitchen table, one on a shelf in the bathroom, and the last on his bedside table.

Then, back in the kitchen, he turns on his bluetooth speaker and pulls up _Conscious_ on Spotify, waiting to hear the little bluetooth-connected beep before pressing play.

Jisung pushes up the sleeves of the hoodie he changed into when he got home before getting his knife and a small ceramic bowl.

Pressing lavender for juice is a little easier than pressing it for drying; you don’t have to preserve its shape. First, Jisung cuts the flowers off the stems, laying them on the side of the cutting board. He cuts a slit in the stem long-wise, then turns it over so the open part is facing down. Then he just presses down, and by the time he lets up on the pressure there’s a small amount of clear juice shining on the cutting board, alight with the sunlight streaming in through the small window above Jisung’s sink. Jisung uses the edge of his knife to push it all off the edge and into the bowl as best he can.

He does this for the other stems as well. The juice of the lavender stem is just as good for magic as that of the flowers, but it’s less concentrated. Jisung lights his stove to medium heat and puts the bowl on.

Heating lavender juice must be done very precisely; it’s better to not have boiled away all the water than to burn the juice. Jisung watches and watches, and when the steam starts to rise he lowers the heat. When small bubbles begin to form and float to the top, he takes the bowl off.

As you allow the juice to cool, press lavender buds. Jisung uses the flat side of his knife to crush the small purple flowers. The juice of the lavender flowers doesn’t need to be reduced, so he adds that right in with the stem juice. He was right—he will have some left over. But he can always find a use for it.

Store juice in a see-through container in a warm, sunny place (preferably east-facing) for three days, ensuring at least two hours of sunlight each day. * After the third day, juice should have very small golden bubbles in it.

(*The more sunlight juice gets, the more present its flavor will be and the more powerful the effects of the juice will be. Be careful to not exceed twenty-four hours of sunlight for flavor, and seventy-two for safety.)

He pours the juice very slowly, right into one of his smallest glass vials. It only fills it up about half an inch, but that's all he needs. He props the vial up against the window, making sure it catches as much sunlight as possible.

And then Jisung washes up, returning everything to its proper place and wiping down the counter. He does his best to keep a clean space in his home, especially in the kitchen. If you have a mess in your kitchen, it’ll make a mess of your mind, and it’s important to be at peace while creating.

He cuts up one of the apples from the market and puts it on a plate with a spoonful of peanut butter, mumbling along with _Full Blown Love_ as he takes his phone and opens Pinterest, walking over to the armchair next to the window and curling up in it.

A notification from Hyunjin comes onto his screen, and he clicks on it.

_hyunjinnie_

_hyunjinnie_

_[picture]_

_for u mwah_

It’s a blurry photo of him trying to kiss Petunia. Jisung grins and saves it to his camera roll.

_Jisung_

_what saint was i in a past life to deserve this wonder?_

_bless ur heart_

_~ <3~ _

The three days pass easily for Jisung. He goes to work with a smile on his face and comes back with a smile on his face. He makes a batch of sugar cookies and brings them in for his coworkers. He wears the dangly earring Chan gave him two weeks ago (“I just saw it, thought you’d like it,” Chan had said when Jisung asked), and finds out, delightedly, that it jingles softly when he moves his head.

Felix texts him the morning of the fourteenth. It’s the first text Jisung’s gotten from him with actual words, rather than memes and cute emoticons, since three days ago.

_lix_ **_♡_ **

_lix_ **_♡_ **

_You’re still coming right?_

_Jisung_

_yep!!! i’ll see you at 5!!!_

Jisung puts his phone down next to the stove, face up in case Felix texts again. He pours the last of his batter into the pan and swirls it around. There’s not enough left to make a regular-sized crepe, but it’s okay; there doesn’t need to be.

When the last crepe is all done, Jisung puts the blender and spatula into the dishwasher after rinsing them off, then scrubs the pan clean and balances it on the edge of the sink to dry. Clean kitchen, clean mind. He eats at the table with his laptop playing an episode of _Brooklyn Nine-Nine_ in English—no subtitles. He understands the jokes and rewinds to watch them again, laughing twice as hard just out of happiness.

After clearing away the table and washing his hands, Jisung pulls back the curtains of the window above his sink. It’s been three days, and the lavender juice, as intended, has turned clear, and there are tiny golden bubbles suspended throughout.

During its time in the sun, the lavender juice absorbs the sunlight. The sunlight encased is what creates the warmth and lightness needed for the healing effect of the cake. This step cannot be skipped, nor rushed.

Jisung puts on some more music as he gets all the ingredients out of his cupboards. He has to climb on the counter to reach the shelf where he keeps the flour; as inconvenient as it is, that’s where he has the space for them. He doesn’t mind too much.

To prepare cake:

Combine flour, salt, baking powder, and baking soda in a bowl. Jisung sets that bowl aside, then preheats the oven and gets out his measuring cups.

Then he gets out a second bowl, bigger than the one his dry ingredients are in, and pours in his sugar. He cracks and separates the eggs, letting the whites drip into a third bowl before adding the yolks to the sugar. Then he zests one of his lemons—they’re the ones from the market three days ago. After zesting it completely, he slices it in half then squeezes all the juice out into the bowl.

He ends up having just enough lemons to get the amount of juice he needs, and once everything’s all mixed together he adds the dry ingredients.

Then he picks up his vial of lavender juice and pours out most of it into the bowl of egg whites. He sings along to _Sing Me_ as he turns on his hand mixer, smiling just because.

Once soft peaks have formed, fold egg whites with other mixture. Pour into a greased pan and bake at 350 for thirty minutes.

Jisung cleans while his cake is baking. He wipes down his counter and he puts everything in the dishwasher and he sweeps the kitchen floor and he dances around in the kitchen to his Day6 playlist. He’s always been most productive when something’s in the oven.

It’s really lovely out, so he opens the window just a bit. The crisp air smells nice as it pours in, mingling with the pretty lemon scent of the cake.

Jisung’s phone lights up from where it’s still laying on the counter. He twirls over to check it; it’s another text from Felix.

_lix_ **_♡_ **

_lix_ **_♡_ **

_Chan just made some last-minute plans, so it’s just going to be us for most of the night_

_Jisung_

_more cake for us then :-)_

_lix_ **_♡_ **

_Yay!!! ヽ(´∇｀)ﾉ_

Jisung smiles at his phone before clearing out all his apps, crying internally when he clears out Spotify and his music turns off mid- _Out of My Mind_. The beeping of his oven timer interrupts the newfound silence.

He takes the cake out of the oven, sticking a knife into the center to make sure it’s all done.

The late April afternoon shines through Jisung’s windows as he looks for the vine compilation with the longest, most specific title he can find—it ends up being _vines for when you’re lonely and forget who you are_ —and watches it on his laptop as he waits for the cake to cool, laying on the couch with his feet propped up on the armrest.

Once the cake has cooled, dust with powdered sugar. Serve chilled.

When four P.M. swings around, Jisung covers his cake with seran wrap, slips in his earbuds, and heads off to the bus station, earring jingling and DS tucked away safely in his backpack.

It’s a pretty long way as far as bus rides go, but Jisung doesn’t mind. He just pages through Buzzfeed quizzes and nods his head along to _Something New_.

“It’s open!” is what greets him as he knocks on the door of Felix and Chan’s apartment. He twists open the doorknob, and there Felix is, carrying a pile of blankets that almost completely obscures his face. Jisung sets his backpack on the floor and the cake on the small table next to the door. “Hey, Hannie!” Felix says cheerfully, dumping all the blankets on a chair and opening his arms.

Jisung doesn’t hesitate to run into them. Felix gives the best hugs.

“You smell like grapefruit,” Felix comments after a couple moments. Jisung can feel the vibrations of the words from where his face is nestled into Felix’s neck.

“‘S my perfume.”

They stay like that for a while, rocking back and forth. It’s nice.

“I brought my lemon cake. I made it this morning,” Jisung says. Felix pulls away, delighted.

“You are a godsend. Have I told you you're a godsend? You're a godsend. You are. D’you wanna put it in the kitchen?”

In lieu of a response, Jisung picks the cake off the doorside table, muttering a quiet “Snatched” that makes Felix snort, and sliding across the slick wooden floors to the kitchen in his socks. He swings open the fridge to slide in his cake and slide out the water pitcher.

“Water?” he calls.

“Orange juice,” Felix calls back.

He’s lying on the couch, phone held up over his face, when Jisung comes back into the living room. Jisung holds the glass of orange juice so it’s resting on Felix’s stomach. He doesn’t let go, just makes Felix think he will.

“I hate you.” He can hear the pout in Felix’s voice, and smiles fondly at the sound. He places his own glass on the floor, reaches over to the chair where Felix put all the blankets, and takes two. He tucks one around Felix before wrapping the other one around himself and sitting next to him.

They while away the time before the JJP stage sending each other memes. By the time Felix’s alarm for six o’clock goes off, Felix has wormed his way into Jisung’s arms. He has to wiggle around a bit to try and reach the TV remote without getting up.

This has been a tradition of theirs since they met. Which, now that he thinks about it, was about a year ago. Jisung can’t quite believe that it’s been so long. The past two years have been … messy for him, to say the least, and it’s now that he can actively realize he is happy. After a while of fighting for it, it feels wonderful.

Absentmindedly, Felix reaches for Jisung’s hand and laces their fingers together, then traces the back of Jisung’s hand with his free hand. Whether he means to or not, Felix finds the scars decorating Jisung’s skin, leaving a comforting warmth settling into the old burns and cuts. Jisung’s not sure how Felix knew he needed the touch, but he’s not going to complain.

He holds Felix tighter, resting his cheek on Felix’s shoulder, trying to account for the sudden swell of warmth in his chest.

(Sometimes, his emotions seep into the people around him. It’s always happened; he’s gotten better at controlling it, but he’s also gotten better at distinguishing between controlling and confining, and he’s long since stopped denying himself the ability to feel.)

“Ah, this might seem random,” Felix starts with a little giggle, “but can you believe it’s been, like, a year since we’ve met? I don’t know, I just got pretty …” his eyebrows furrow as he trails off, searching for the right word.

“Nostalgic?” Jisung offers. Felix’s answering smile nearly hurts his eyes.

“Yes! Nostalgic. Like, I feel like I’ve known you forever, but at the same time not nearly long enough. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah! Yeah, it does. I feel the same way, honestly.”

Felix squeezes his hand, and Jisung squeezes back, immeasurably grateful to have someone like Felix in his life.

After the stage is over, Felix rolls off Jisung’s lap, and subsequently off the couch. He lands with a thump. Jisung snorts before they both stand up and slide across the hardwood to the kitchen in their socks.

Felix gets out two plates and two forks, and Jisung goes back into the living room to get their glasses.

“Do you want water?” Jisung asks, shifting through the contents of the fridge. “Or more orange juice, or … uh … what else d’you have? Milk? Choc—ooh, you have chocolate milk! I’m gonna have that, what about you?”

“Chocolate milk? That’s gonna go awful with your cake, fool. I’ll have water.”

Felix swings his feet back and forth from where they're dangling over the counter, hitting the cabinet underneath in a steady rhythm. Jisung just leans against the counter.

His lemon cake is delicious. Felix agrees, if the unending praises falling from his mouth are anything to go by.

“Dude, I'm serious! No, don't laugh,” he says, laughing, “I mean it! I would tear down the Empire State Building itself with nothing but these two hands.” He holds up aforementioned hands. Jisung takes one of them and holds it with both of his own. Felix's hands are small and cute and he loves holding them. “I would do that without a single thought if it meant I could eat this cake for life.”

Jisung laughs, and it comes right from his chest. Felix keeps talking, his words mellowing out into half-sensical rambling. Jisung absentmindedly plays with Felix's fingers. Felix smiles, more and more easily as the clock on the microwave ticks the night away, and Jisung knows that Felix can feel it too; the warm, clean feeling making a home of his chest.

“I think I’m gonna take another chem classes this semester—this coming semester. Like, I’m not gonna change my major, of course, since I only have a year left, but I wanna do more in chemistry. Even if the long ass molecule names still deck me in the face.”

Jisung nods, swinging his feet. “That’ll be cool! I know you really liked the labs you did. And I think if you did wanna switch your major from straight biology to something like biochemistry, you could make that work, too. All your bio work wouldn’t just go to waste.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right,” Jisung says teasingly. “Real talk, though, not trying to push you into anything here, but you can always talk to your advisor, too. Just see what works best with the things you enjoy.”

“Thanks. I think I might do that.” Felix offers a half-laugh, half-breath. “Damn. How are you so good with college advice when you aren’t even in college? That’s just not fair.”

Jisung shrugs. “I’m just in possession of infinite wisdom. Plus, I’m here for you.”

“I know this, and I love you." Felix takes a breath. Jisung watches his shoulders fall. "Felt like … it felt like something I wanted to say, y'know?”

“I always value the things you want to say. Even if it’s with stuff that I can’t relate to, like college. So thank you for sharing!” Jisung beams, and Felix meets his eyes with a sheepish grin.

“Thanks for listening.”

“Always. I brought my DS, I wanted to show you the additions I made to my village! It's so pretty,” Jisung gushes.

Felix claps his hands together, eyes lit up. “Oh, that reminds me! Go and get your DS.”

He offers no further explanation, so Jisung goes and gets his DS. He can hear the clinking of Felix putting their plates into the dishwasher behind him.

“Meet me in the bathroom!” Felix calls, so Jisung pads down the hallway and turns, sliding into the bathroom and sitting down in the edge of the bathtub.

Chan and Felix's bathroom is always clean. There's no straight color scheme, but it all seems to work together anyway. There are cute rainbow bath mats and a shower curtain with a rubber duck on it. There's a chaotic but cheerful energy to it. Jisung loves it.

Felix shuffles in a minute or two after Jisung, holding two mugs. He pushes one into Jisung’s hands and leaves the other one on the edge of the sink. Then he reaches for something on the shelf.

It’s his skincare bin—a clear plastic bin with cute stickers plastered all over it.

“I got this new mask at Ulta the other day!” he says excitedly. “Chan-hyung and I went the other night, and I thought it’d be fun to try it out with you when you came.” All his masks are near the bottom because they get used the least frequently, so Felix has to dig a little before coming out with a cute purple jar. “It’s a lavender clay mask; it smells amazing, and it’s supposed to be really purifying, and, like, healing. I read reviews for it.”

“Awesome!” Jisung says, sitting up and taking a sip of whatever’s in his mug. It’s Felix’s orange vanilla tea, the one he knows Jisung likes.

“I’m just gonna wash my face, and then you can, and then we’ll put it on!” Felix dabs before he gets his cleanser out and washes his face.

Jisung digs his phone out of his pocket and hits shuffle on his _good times_ playlist, which is just LANY and Harry Styles.

Felix sits on the toilet seat and Jisung back on the bathtub rim and they apply their masks. It’s a strange thing, how everything’s funnier when you’re not supposed to laugh. Jisung doesn’t wanna crack his mask, but it’s getting increasingly hard to not when Felix keeps airdropping him memes.

Jisung feels the contentedness rolling off him in waves, and he can see it in the way Felix’s shoulders relax and the tension in his body lessens. You can never have too much healing, Jisung supposes.

The mask makes his skin feel soft and smooth, and Jisung resists the constant urge to rub his cheeks just to feel it. They traipse out of the bathroom after washing up, and into Felix’s bedroom.

Felix throws himself onto his bed, mumbling a muffled “Yeet,” into the comforter. Jisung giggles before following suit, except he throws himself onto Felix instead.

Felix grumbles, “Get off, hoe,” but makes no move to get Jisung off, so Jisung just wraps his arms around Felix’s waist and burrows his face into Felix’s back.

A half hour or so finds Jisung propped up against the wall, bobbing his head along with the Animal Crossing music. Felix’s head is resting on Jisung’s stomach and he’s absentmindedly watching Jisung play, whistling along in time.

There it is again, that feeling. Less tight, though, less deep, and more of that blind giddiness that fills up your chest and makes you laugh for no reason.

He knows Felix feels it too, because when he glances down a moment later Felix is grinning, loud and bright. He makes a weird noise and flops over so his face is buried in Jisung’s stomach.

“Mood,” Jisung says, pinching Felix’s ear just because he can, and Felix snorts.

“Aren’t you cold? This is thin,” Felix says, gesturing at Jisung’s shirt. It’s a flowy white button-down, one of the many he owns.

“No. Can’t you feel how warm I am? I haven’t felt cold in twelve years.”

“I’m sleepy.”

“Then go to sleep. I’ll try not let spiders eat you alive.”

“Thanks!” Felix grins. “Wake me up when hyung gets home.”

“No,” Jisung says, already combing his fingers through Felix’s hair.

“Mm, thanks.” He already sounds half-asleep, settling himself on top of Jisung’s stomach yet again, this time facing away from him.

Jisung turns down the music of his DS a little. He knows Felix doesn’t have a problem with it—Felix fell asleep when they saw a replay of _The Conjuring_ in the theater, like an unbothered king—but the mood’s quieted down and he wants to match it.

Felix’s phone vibrates against the bed, and the screen lights up as a text comes in. Jisung, careful not to jostle him, reaches to check the notification in case it’s important.

 _sonny with a chan_ is the contact name. (Even though Jisung can read English, he’s clueless. Maybe this is some sort of strange Australian slang? What does that even mean? What is a sonny?)

The text opens up on the home screen. _Heading home now!! Well be there in like 10min, anything yall need?_

Must be Chan. Maybe Jisung can ask him what a sonny is when he gets home. _Nope (ﾉ ´ヮ´ )ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧_ **_♡_ **, he replies.

Jisung keeps his DS open for the music but lays it aside in favor of pulling out his own phone, putting Felix’s down.

It feels more familiar in his hand than Felix’s did—Felix has an iPhone 8, and Jisung still has the 4s. People always tell him to get a new one, but his still works fine, and the screen’s not littered with cracks like someone’s (Chan’s), so he doesn’t really see the need. Y’know—if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

Jisung opens his photos, and scrolls through until he finds his _tree!_ album. There are pictures he’s taken and pictures from Hyunjin’s Instagram, pictures of sunsets and sunrises and just about everything in between. Recently, with the borderline spring weather, there have been more pictures of the sea and the sky, always dark and stormy. Jisung loves storms. His aunt taught him to draw warmth from them when he was learning to collect what he needs from different places.

(It’s important to look for what you need when you can’t find it; if you need it, it’ll be there. Just maybe not in the way you’re expecting.)

True to Chan’s word, Jisung can hear, faintly, the sound of a key jingling in the door ten minutes later.

Jisung nudges Felix. “‘Lix,” he murmurs. “‘Lix, hyung’s home.”

Felix just whines. “‘M warm, though.” Jisung can’t see his face, but he’s very sure Felix is pouting. “No, don’t move! You’re warm; don’t leave me to freeze to death all alone.”

“I’ll be in the kitchen, why don’t you come in there with me?” It’s like trying to convince a toddler, Jisung thinks as Felix looks up at him with his big puppy eyes and makes grabby hands.

Jisung just giggles in response, and rolls his eyes. “If that’s what it takes.”

So Jisung half-carries Felix out into the hallway, and he hears voices—new voices—as they make their way to the kitchen.

Felix doesn’t seem bothered; he probably knows them, then. Jisung is about to ask Felix who they are when he hears a laugh from someone out there.

It’s a pretty laugh. Loud, and bright, and infectious. That’s a laugh from the chest, Jisung can hear his aunt saying. He can see her nodding approvingly when he shuts his eyes.

(A laugh, according to Jisung’s aunt, is the easiest way to know someone’s heart.

Somewhere in the world, somewhere beautiful, there’s a shaft of golden light peeking through leaves, falling in patches through clouds. That’s where that laugh’s from, Jisung knows. That beautiful place.)

Chan’s turned on all the lights in the kitchen, and it’s flooded in yellow light when Jisung and Felix enter. There are two people in the kitchen. One of them Jisung knows. One of them he doesn't.

“Hey, Sung, hey Felix,” Chan says. Felix straightens up to stretch, and Chan opens his arms for Jisung. Jisung gladly accepts the hug.

(Chan’s hugs are a very close second to Felix’s. He just holds you tight and close and makes you feel so warm.)

Chan's arm lingers around his shoulders as Jisung turns around. The Unknown Person is looking at him, but the weight of his gaze doesn't make Jisung uncomfortable. Just curious.

“Oh, sorry, Jisung, this is my friend Minho. Your hyung.” Minho is wearing a black beanie with a small embroidered cat on the hem, and there’s a silver bracelet hanging lazily off his wrist that catches the light when he moves his hand.

“Your hat is cute,” Jisung says instead of ‘Hello.’ Minho doesn’t seem to mind; his face shifts upwards into a small grin.

“Chan-hyung actually got it for me.”

“Really? He got me this earring!” Jisung says proudly, swinging his head and catching the dangling part of his earring. “Which, by the way,” he adds, turning to Chan, “is wonderful and I love it very much." He turns back to Minho. "Hyung gives me gifts so I bake him things in return!”

Felix snorts from his new perch on the counter. “Sugar daddy.”

Chan chokes, and he looks like he’s about to go off on Felix so Jisung jumps in. “Oh, that reminds me, Channie-hyung, I brought lemon cake.” He smiles for good measure, knowing very well Chan is weak.

Jisung is right, because Chan melts, and Felix immediately tacks onto the topic change, looking to Minho. “Then you should have some, too, hyung! Jisung is really good at baking.”

“Aw, shucks, ‘Lix.” Jisung covers a pretend blush and makes an ‘oh, you’ gesture at Felix, who blows him a kiss in return.

Jisung watches as his hyungs eat, watches with unbridled interest as Chan’s eyes light up, just enough for Jisung to be the only one to notice, and a healthy pink glow dusts his cheeks. He’s smiling. Jisung wants to poke his dimple.

Every bit of magic affects everyone differently; Felix healed by opening up, and Chan heals by smiling.

Then the unintentional silence is broken. “This is really good, Sung!” Chan says it so brightly, so genuinely, that you can’t help but believe him.

“Aw, thank you, hyung!” Jisung preens, matching Chan's enthusiasm. He sees Minho nodding where he's leaning back against the counter, bangs flopping with the motion, covering his mouth.

“It is! I can tell you put a lot into it.” Minho’s voice is muffled, both by his full mouth and his hand, but it’s earnest. His eyes are shining.

Then they lapse into comfortable conversation, Jisung fitting into the banter like they've been friends for years instead of ten minutes. When Chan cracks a lame joke, Minho throws his head back, and that lovely laugh falls out.

“Ah, Minho-hyung!” Jisung says, warming a bit when Minho turns to face him. “You have a pretty laugh.”

Minho’s eyes crinkle, and his smile broadens. Jisung feels a sense of accomplishment.

“I like that laugh,” Felix says, and Jisung imitates the laugh from the vine as if it’s instinct (which it pretty much is) before both of them start cracking up.

Minho looks so confused that they only laugh harder.

“Disappointed but not surprised,” Chan says, looking resigned as he shakes his head.

“Come on, hyung.” Felix nudges Chan with his foot. “Don’t act like you don’t love vine just as much as we do.”

“What is going on."

"Vine references," Chan tells Minho, grinning before he realizes what he's done. "Oh, God. I'm explaining Vine. What have the kids done to me?"

Felix splutters in protest (“Vine is the peak of modern comedy! I’m honestly, truly heartbroken that you could dismiss it so easily. A whole generation’s mental well-being literally depends solely on vine compilations!”) and Chan can’t help but smile fondly.

Minho quirks an eyebrow, his eyes a bit too shiny to be innocent. “Isn’t vine dead?”

Felix lets out an ungodly screech.

Jisung ends up spending the night. Minho leaves around midnight, but he lives closer by, and by that time it’s cold and Jisung’s pretty sure he couldn’t make it to the bus stop in time to catch the last bus of the night.

It’s not like it’s a hassle, anyway. He’s spent his fair share of nights at the Aussie Apartment—AA for short; Chan voted for Aussie Headquarters, but Felix insisted they have alliteration—so he raids Chan’s closet for comfy pajamas while Felix gathers all the pillows he can find and puts them all in the living room with the blanket pile.

Chan’s Day6 hoodie is too big for Jisung, as are all of his clothes, but Felix’s are worse. Besides, it’s really soft.

Chan and Felix both coo when Jisung walks out of the bathroom with the bottoms of Chan’s university sweatpants rolled up and the sleeves of his hoodie draped over his hands.

“You’re a small baby and I love you,” Chan says immediately.

Felix starts wailing, wiping away mock tears. “Oh, you are so cute! I love your cute little smiles! Oh my gosh! I want him to stay little.”

“‘M gonna fight you both. Fist to face.”

They don’t take him seriously, surprisingly enough. He’s pulled down to the floor between the two of them and Chan tucks both him and Felix in.

“Thanks, dad,” Felix says. Chan just rolls his eyes, failing to hide the fond, dimpled smile that comes out.

They put on _Lemonade Mouth_ and laugh until their stomachs hurt and when Jisung wakes up, Felix is still wrapped around him, Chan’s clattering around in the kitchen, and he has twenty-two notifications from a new groupchat Chan created.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [playlist:](https://music.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL2EJG-r4L00KfabGMFwr9d8gfoKdyML0C)  
> Stay — TAEYEON  
> Timeless — NCT U  
> One in a Million — TWICE  
> Medicine — The 1975  
> Placebo — 3RACHA  
> Sweet Creature — Harry Styles  
> Beautiful Time — NCT DREAM  
> I — TAEYEON  
> Save Rock And Roll — Fall Out Boy ft. Elton John  
> You Are In Love — Taylor Swift  
> Baby, it’s okay — Day6  
> One Last Time — Girls’ Generation  
> Is There Somebody Who Can Watch You — The 1975  
> 3rd Eye — Stray Kids  
> Trees — twenty one pilots  
> Ribs — Lorde  
> Night Changes — One Direction  
> Healing — SEVENTEEN  
> I Lived — OneRepublic  
> Rollercoaster — Bleachers  
> Cover Up — TAEYEON  
> ILYSB — LANY
> 
> thanks for stopping by my dears <3
> 
> lmk what u think !! im like a mf parking ticket .. needs to be validated .. lmao
> 
> my [tumblr](https://lucyepiccrash.tumblr.com/) n [kpop tumblr](https://taeyeonsb.tumblr.com/) if u wanna say hi or read some other skz fics !!
> 
> have a beautiful day !! love you dearly and see you later


	2. tomorrow will shine brighter; the night is kind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome back friends !!
> 
> i can 100% recommend this here recipe folks .. it slaps .......... it's my mom's apple cake and it's the best thanks for comin 2 my ted talk
> 
> playlisty boy in the end notes !!
> 
> thank yall for ur lovely comments <3 each one made my heart just !!!!!!!!!!! yknow
> 
> okay here we go !!

Apple blossoms for sleep: apple cake

5 green apples

2 tsp cinnamon

5 tbsp sugar

3 c flour

2 c sugar

3 tsp baking soda

1 tsp salt

1 c vegetable oil

4 eggs

¼ c orange juice

2 ½ tsp vanilla

1 c chopped walnuts

handful of apple blossoms

milk

honey

To prepare apple blossoms:

Note: this step must be done at moonrise.

Rinse apple blossoms with warm water and dry gently.

Jisung pouts as he dies on Doodle Jump again. Hyunjin set a high score way beyond anything Jisung has ever achieved last time they hung out, and he’s been trying to beat it ever since.

Chan is sleeping, head laying in Jisung’s lap. Jisung’s been curled up in the same position for a bit too long, but he’s not about to move; Chan gets far too little rest, and Jisung’s gonna let him get as much as possible while he can.

They were having a _Hello, My Twenties!_ marathon; they’ve been watching it together, but recently Chan’s job’s been getting more demanding. When he had a promised weekend completely off, Jisung seized the opportunity for them to catch up.

Now, it’s some time past midnight and the same Netflix promotions are popping up on Jisung’s laptop screen because the episode’s been paused for so long and Jisung is playing Doodle Jump with his phone on mute. What’s left of the stir fry they made together is in a tupperware in the fridge. Their empty hot chocolate mugs are on the coffee table next to the laptop.

It’s been a pretty relaxing night for Jisung, too. Chan is always a lovely presence in Jisung's home, something calm in all the bright.

Maybe Jisung should just let Hyunjin have his high score. It’s not really looking like he’ll beat it anytime soon.

When Chan wakes up, it’s somewhere around two in the morning, and Jisung is reading _How to Cheat a Dragon’s Curse_.

“Ooh, I love that book,” Chan says, voice pretty rough. He coughs, and Jisung lifts up the arm that was resting on Chan’s shoulder so Chan can sit up and go to the kitchen.

He returns, two glasses of water in hand. “This your first time reading the series?”

Jisung nods, taking a big sip of water. He hadn’t noticed how thirsty he was.

“I read them when I was little! I think I still have my copies, though. I remember dragging my parents out to go see the first movie when it came out.”

“Oh, me too!” Jisung says, lighting up. “I loved that movie, oh my God! I didn’t know it was a book series until a little while ago, though. I’ve been reading them ever since.” There’s a beat of silence, then, “I have the movie on DVD. If we wanna watch.”

And, of course, you can’t watch cinematic masterpieces—which is the only proper way to describe _How to Train Your Dragon_ —without ice cream, so Jisung gets two hoodies out of his closet and tosses one to Chan. Chan’s curly hair gets all messy when he pulls it over his head. It’s cute, and Jisung doesn’t hesitate to ruffle his hair and tell him so.

“Hmph. Don’t act like you’re not just as cute.”

Then they’re on their way to the convenience store two blocks away from Jisung’s. It’s not freezing, because it’s nearly summer, but it isn’t warm either, because it’s two in the morning. Jisung huddles into the arm Chan has wrapped around his waist, more for comfort than for warmth, but Chan holds him just the same.

Jisung gets a pint of Cherry Garcia and Chan gets Phish Food and the cashier offers a smile in response to Jisung’s. He almost skips home.

Jisung falls asleep right after the credits start. He wakes with his laptop and phone both put away, the mugs and containers of ice cream cleaned up, and the smell of waffles filling the room.

He wanders in, stretching his arms up as he goes into the kitchen to hug Chan, then walks right back out, this time to the bathroom.

After he uses the bathroom, brushes his teeth, and washes his face, he feels a bit more alive. Chan is cutting up strawberries and humming some song that Jisung vaguely recognizes.

“Are you and Felix selling at the market today?” Jisung asks, and Chan shakes his head.

“Nah. Felix threw a fit about me working too hard when I asked him what time we should set up earlier this morning.”

“You wanna come and shop with me, then?” The waffle maker beeps, and Jisung holds out a plate as Chan opens it.

“Sure!”

As always, Jisung refuses to make Chan coffee—“Like I’m gonna give you coffee, hyung, come on; as if you need more caffeine,”—instead opting for tea. He gets the jar of blackberry jam from the fridge and a knife from the drawer and sits at the table across from Chan, spreading it on his waffle.

Chan talks about the new project he’s just gotten at work, and Jisung listens. (He likes listening, sometimes better than speaking, and Chan always has interesting things to say. Everyone does.)

And when they’ve finished, they go into Jisung’s bedroom to change.

“It’s a good thing you wear oversized clothes,” Chan says, throwing on a flannel over one of Jisung’s t-shirts.

“Sure is,” Jisung replies. He’s sitting on the bed pulling on socks. They’re cute cactus socks and he loves them. “Don’t know what I’d do without you constantly stealing my clothes.”

“As if you don’t own half of mine.” Chan shoots back, holding up a shirt, one that Jisung may or may not have stolen from him months ago, to drive his point home, smiling in a way that makes it hard for Jisung to do anything but smile back.

“‘S what friends are for, right hyung?” Jisung bats his eyes for good measure, poking his fingers into his cheeks. Chan rolls his eyes, but he’s still smiling.

Hyunjin has so many photos of Petunia. He’s sitting on the counter of the tea shop stall and scrolling through his photo album, tilting it so both Chan and Jisung can see.

Petunia is ridiculously cute; that much is obvious. Even though Hyunjin has still-red scratch marks from her disapproval, they get stories of how pretty she is, and how much she’s warmed up to her new home.

“Scar buddies!” Jisung says, holding out his hands for a double fist bump. Hyunjin obliges enthusiastically.

Petunia’s a calico, and she’s got big wide eyes that look almost innocent enough that you can forget about Hyunjin’s injuries.

When Jisung voices that thought, Chan snorts next to him.

“Hyunjinjuries.”

Hyunjin’s laugh has always been contagious, and Jisung’s cheeks hurt from how widely he’s grinning. (Chan looks pleasantly surprised at their reaction, which makes sense. Normally when he makes those kinds of jokes around the others he gets hit.)

They stay a little while longer, until Hyunjin really can’t leave Momo to handle all the customers alone. Jisung calls an apology to her as they step away. She waves it off, ponytail swinging as she moves around Hyunjin.

“Don’t worry about it! And tell the girls I said hi.”

So Jisung leads Chan over to Sana and Jihyo's table to carry the message. Sana's dyed her hair back to brown. It looks pretty, and she smiles when Jisung tells her so.

“Hey, Jisung-ah!” Jihyo sidles up next to Sana and hip-checks her. Sana giggles.

“Hi, noona! This is my friend Chan-hyung,” Jisung says, linking arms with Chan. “Hyung, this is Jihyo-noona and Sana-noona.” They bow in turn, and Chan bows right back. “He’s a vendor here, too! But, like, on the opposite side, so you probably haven’t seen him round much.”

“Oh, cool!” Sana says. “So what brings you two here? We just got a bunch of really nice Granny Smiths if you’re interested, Jisung. They’re good for baking, according to Jeongyeon.”

“Awesome! I’ve actually had something in mind for that, so that’s perfect! I’ll take eight, if you have them. Hyung, you want anything?”

“You’re out of strawberries; we used the last of them this morning.”

“Then can I get a basket of strawberries, too, please?” Jihyo nods, then steps away. When she steps back, Jisung holds his bag open so she can drop everything inside.

Chan sips from his tea—it’s maesil-cha, Hyunjin’s specialty, because Jisung’s still not letting him drink coffee.

(“His special-tea?” Chan had asked when Jisung told him, looking very pleased with himself. They could hear Hyunjin giggling to himself as he brewed Chan’s order.)

Sana and Chan end up in a conversation about their favorite season of planting, or something nerdy like that. Jisung zones out, and lets them have their gardening talk.

He watches the people around them come and go, laughing and talking and planning out their days. He loves the farmers’ market, and this is one of the reasons. Everything’s so lovely, lively, colorful. He fits in here.

Chan nudges his side gently. Their arms are still linked. “You ready to keep going?”

Jisung nods, then waves bye at Jihyo and Sana.

“See you next week!” Jihyo calls, before they turn away and Chan’s dragging him to the next stand. Chan insists on buying Jisung a mini tart, because “They’re just so cute, Sung! Just like you. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t get it for you immediately.”

There’s no arguing with Chan, not when he looks so endearingly excited about something so small. “As long as you get something for you, too,” Jisung concedes.

So Jisung munches on a mini key lime tart and Chan tears off small pieces of an almond croissant and they wander around the market for the rest of the morning.

“If you’re not sick of spending time with me yet, I would like to cordially invite you to go up to my friend Changbin’s apple orchard this afternoon. He said,” Jisung pauses, looking at the text Changbin sent, “we can hang out, and spend the night.”

“I could never become sick of spending time with you!” Chan says, slapping a hand to his chest. He looks actually offended for the split second before he grins again, swinging his legs so they gently bump into the cabinets underneath the kitchen counter where he’s perched. “Also, that sounds awesome! You sure it’s okay to invite me, though? I don’t, you know. Know him.”

“Absolutely! He said to bring anyone I want.”

“You gonna invite the others, then?”

Jisung gasps. “I should! Hyung, you’re a genius! Family bonding time!”

Chan waves a hand nonchalantly. “They don’t call me ‘Good Idea Generator’ for nothing.”

“Does anyone actually call you that?”

“No?” Chan snorts. “What kinda question, honestly.”

_Dreme teme (5)_

_Jisung_

_any1 want 2 come to my friends apple orchard 4 some Quality Fun Time_

_lix_ **_♡_ **

_Absolutely_

_What time_

_Jisung_

_like ,,, sometime?_

_we’d leave around 3 myb_

_today_

_bring sleepover stuff guys too_

_minho hyung_

_dont apples like_

_bloom in fall_

_Jisung_

_yes they do hyung!!!_

_but we are not there 4 apples, but Apple Blossoms_

_i need them for a recipe so i decided to make a fun trip out of it~_

_like the Boss i am_

_im the boss to the world_

_lix_ **_♡_ **

_Lalalalalalala hot dog feel like I wear_

_Jisung_

_COUSCOUS_

_lix_ **_♡_ ** _  
_ _COUSCOUS_

_minho hyung_

_who all is gonna be there_

_Jisung_

_everyone in this here chat is Invitedt_

_and the host is my friend changbin_

_hes small and simultaneously full of rage and love_

_lix_ **_♡_ **

_What if I told you I have plans and can’t hang out_

_Jisung_

_fool_

_u shared ur google calendar with me_

_lix_ **_♡_ **

_Drats !!_

_channie_

_How are we getting there tho??_

_Jisung_

_train, babeyyy_

_minho hyung_

_im allergic to trains_

_channie_

_We all make sacrifices_

_Jisung_

_so we’re all coming/??_

_lix **♡**  
_

_Yes !!!!_

_Jisung_

_lit!!!!!!!!_

_i’ll tell binnie :D_

_y’all can come over 2 my place anytime before 3 p m_

_i have , ,,,, food_

_and also two (2) dvds_

_lix_ **_♡_ **

_Falsa salsa boy !!_

_I know for a fact you have_

_Httyd, httyd 2, kikis delivery service, and barbie princess and the pauper_

_That’s four (4)_

_Jisung_

_sorry . u see, i’m jared, 19_

_lix_ **_♡_ **

_My apologies jared ssi you’re free to go_

_minho hyung_

_anyone else confused out of their mind_

_channie_

_Always_

_Jisung_

_i’m making brownies as incentive to come_

_lix_ **_♡_ **

_Thamks -sent from my iPhone_

Bestest brownies from the bestest boy !!!!!

_channie_

_Ive ………. Never had them??_

_Im pretty sure that’s unconstitutional?_

_How come lixies had them and i havent, sung_

_Ive known u since the day u were born :((((((((_

_Jisung_

_how bold of u to assume i was born_

_channie_

_Hmmmmmmmm_

Jisung looks up from his phone and sees Chan narrowing his eyes at the group chat. He laughs out loud, right from his chest, then puts his phone down to get out the ingredients he needs to bake brownies.

Chan provides helpful commentary and plays his happy Carrie Underwood playlist, and Jisung can feel the urge to smile rolling off himself in waves. He looks up from stirring in the sugar to see that that urge’s made its way right over to Chan, and he’s smiling so hard Jisung’s cheeks hurt just looking at him.

“What’s got you so smiley, cutie?” Jisung asks, prodding Chan’s thigh, even though he knows what’s got Chan so smiley.

“Just how much I love being with you,” Chan responds seamlessly, reaching over and pinching Jisung’s cheek.

“Aw, hyung.” Jisung smacks him gently on the shoulder. “You’re gonna make me blush if you keep that up. Pass me the bin next to you?” Chan does, and Jisung rifles through it until he finds the bag of chocolate chips.

“You don’t measure them?” Chan raises an eyebrow, watching Jisung pour them straight out of the bag into his batter.

“Nah,” Jisung says, shaking his head. “You measure that shit with your heart.” He eats a handful of chocolate chips, then motions for Chan to hold out his hands so Jisung can pour some in.

After Jisung puts the brownies in the oven, they scrape the remaining batter from the sides of the pot and lick it off their fingers, bopping their heads to _Get Out Of This Town_.

Minho arrives first, texting _i have arrived_ before they hear a knock on the door. Chan goes to open it, since Jisung’s washing his hands, and in comes Minho, wearing a flannel.

“Hey,” Chan says, reaching forward and grabbing Minho’s sleeve. “We match!”

“Jisung, where’s the bathroom? I need to change my clothes. It’s an emergency.”

“Hey!” Chan protests, laughing. Minho’s got a deadpan stare that Jisung would think meant he was being serious if he didn’t know Minho so well.

“You want something to drink?” Chan offers, opening Jisung’s fridge and scanning the contents. “Orange juice, water, tea, milk?”

“Don’t you have coffee?”

Jisung grins. “Yeah, sure! You want decaf or regular?”

“Regular.”

Chan makes an appalled noise. “Sung! I’ve gotta be honest with you, I never thought you could disregard me so easily.” He sniffles, and swipes at his eyes.

“Ignore him,” Jisung whispers to Minho, loud enough for Chan to hear. “He’s bitter that I’m not letting him drink coffee.”

“Hey,” Minho flicks Chan on the ear, snorting. “It’s not Jisung’s fault you’re dead-set on ruining your own life.”

Chan’s pouting now. “I’ve slept so much these past two days, that’s not fair! I just like coffee. And working.”

Jisung joins in. “And I like seeing my friends happy and healthy, but alas.” He sighs and gazes off into the living room. “We can’t always get what we want.”

Minho laughs, bright and loud. “K-O! Man, hyung, how does it feel to be utterly decimated?”

Chan hmphs, crossing his arms comically, and Minho coos at him. 

Jisung makes Minho’s coffee, putting it in a cute cat mug he figures Minho will appreciate.

(If the delighted face Minho makes when he sees it is anything to go by, Jisung’s right.)

He makes Chan a smoothie. Though Chan whines about it, Jisung knows he’s grateful, even if he doesn’t know that Jisung made it specifically to dissipate the negative thoughts that plague Chan at night. Orchid petals—they taste great with blueberries.

Felix comes in a little later, and by that time the brownies are cooling on the stovetop and the other three are playing a very intense game of ERS.

He doesn’t bother knocking; key-holder privileges. He closes the door neatly, just in time to witness Minho smacking the cards hard enough to make the flame of Jisung’s candle waver.

“Have these cooled?” Felix calls over from where the brownies are, already cutting one.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy?”

Felix throws back his head and laughs, and Jisung’s attention is so diverted by the beautiful sound that he misses the double jacks right in front of him. Chan beats Minho to it this time, whooping in triumph as he takes the cards and puts them in his pile.

Felix swings himself into the chair at the head of the table, one hand holding a brownie and the other hovering under his chin to catch any spare crumbs that might fall.

“How are they?” Jisung asks distractedly, trying to remember what the card on the bottom is. He thinks it’s a six.

“Great! I can feel my skin clearing as we speak.”

Chan plays a six, and Jisung slaps the pile. Turns out it was a ten on the bottom.

“Aw, take that L, mate,” Felix crows from his seat, looking delighted watching Jisung perish. Jisung scrunches his nose at Felix before putting his card on the bottom. Of course it’s a six.

The game gets called to an end soon after that, because it’s been dragging on for a while and they all know Minho’s gonna win. It’s almost time to go, anyway, and Jisung needs to pack his things.

“Does everyone have what they need to spend the night?”

A chorus of “yes” resonates around the table, and Jisung beams. “Alrighty then! Lemme just pack real quick, then we can get going!”

So he skips into his room and gathers some clothes and throws them into his backpack. He double-checks to make sure he hasn’t left any of his candles burning before going into the bathroom and grabbing his toothbrush and skincare bag.

Felix’s packing the rest of the brownies into a tupperware when Jisung comes back out, sliding across the floor in his socks, and they all seem to be arguing about something. Very heatedly.

“No, it doesn’t matter what the official definition of a sandwich says! A hot dog is not a sandwich!”

Jisung decides immediately that he doesn’t want to be a part of that conversation, so he gets an empty tupperware and slips it in his bag, for him to put the apple blossoms in later, so they don’t get crushed in his bag on the way home.

When three o’clock hits, Chan and Jisung usher everyone out the door and after Jisung locks up they all head towards the train station.

It’s a bit of a walk, but it’s warm outside and a breeze is ruffling Jisung’s hair and Minho is humming as he walks next to Jisung.

They pile into a compartment all together, giggling at Felix’s cute dancing. Jisung ends up next to Minho on the seat. It makes him feel small, but he doesn’t mind. He unzips his backpack and pulls out _How to Cheat a Dragon’s Curse_ , thumbing through until he gets to the chapter he was on earlier.

(Chan’s always asked him how he doesn’t forget, and skip ahead or reread by accident. Jisung honestly doesn’t know; remembering little things like this just comes naturally to him.)

Chan pulls out a pair of earbuds. Beside him, Minho unfolds a crossword puzzle. 

The Animal Crossing music coming from Felix’s DS fades into the background, and at some point Jisung stops reading. He doesn’t close the book or anything, just leans back against the seat to stare out the window, to watch the city fly by in front of him.

He’s not particularly tired, but the swaying of the train back and forth is particularly nice. The slow conversation between Chan and Minho fills the compartment with a feeling like home, and Minho’s hair is gleaming in the sunlight that’s poking through the overcast sky and streaming in through their window. It’s easy enough to fall asleep.

It’s quarter to five when they step off onto the platform. The sun’s still high, though, and Jisung smiles in the late light as it washes over them. He raises his arms and stretches, going onto his tiptoes. Felix pops up and pinches Jisung’s cheeks.

“My small tiny baby,” he coos.

Wait till he meets Changbin, Jisung thinks. The thought makes him smile.

There’s a bit more walking they have to do make it to Changbin’s, but it’s nice to stretch their limbs after an hour and a half cooped up on that train, and Felix brings out the brownies he packed earlier.

It’s so easy to laugh out here, now.

Changin’s home is beautiful, and just how Jisung remembers it: all low-set and wooden, with platforms and sliding doors and a fire pit out back. There are snowdrops here, scattered around the edges of the house. It’s been a while since Jisung’s been here, but it still feels familiar.

He leads the other four up to the door and steps in, calling out a “Hi, hyung!” as he does.

“In the kitchen!” comes the response.

Jisung’s practically skipping by the time they all reach the kitchen—it’s dawning on him now how long it’s been since he’s seen Changbin properly.

“Fancy seeing you here,” is the first thing Changbin says when Jisung slides the kitchen door open.

“Binnie-hyung!” Jisung cheers, throwing himself onto Changbin and clinging to him like a koala.

“Why are you taller than me now?” Changbin whines when Jisung lets go. Jisung looks over and finds, with the utmost delight, that he is indeed taller than Changbin. Only by a centimeter or two, but it’s still a victory. “No, don’t smile like that, I’m trying to hate you.”

“Binnie-hyung,” Jisung continues, ignoring Changbin’s complaints, “these are my friends! They came with me to pick apple blossoms for this cool new recipe I’m making! Which I can send to you if you want. I’ll try it out, and send it if it’s good. Anyway, this is Minho-hyung, Felix, and Channie-hyung!” Jisung gestures to each of them in turn. To Changbin’s credit, he doesn’t seem fazed by Jisung’s rambling, just bows politely at his friends. “And this is Changbinnie-hyung! We grew up together.” Jisung claps a hand on Changbin’s shoulder as Changbin bows to his friends, still enjoying the newfound height difference.

Changbin turns to look at the clock on the stove, then to look out the window.

“It’ll be light for a while longer, so there’s no rush.” Then he looks again at the clock, and adds like it’s an afterthought, “Minnie should be home soon.”

“Ooh, hyung, who’s Minnie?” Jisung says, taking a seat at the kitchen table and gesturing for his friends to do the same. He wiggles his eyebrows when Changbin meets his eyes.

“Seungmin. He’s a friend.” When it’s clear that Jisung won’t take that as an answer, he elaborates. “He’s staying with me for the summer; he’s in college now. Taking writing classes; we met when I did that seminar at his school, the one I told you about, remember?”

“Cool cool cool cool cool cool,” Jisung spouts, then grins, turning to his side. “Changbin-hyung’s the best songwriter in the world!”

Changbin flicks him on the side of his forehead. Jisung yelps and rubs the spot, pouting. “But I gave you a compliment …”

“You write songs?” Chan asks, leaning forward in his seat, eyes lit up. When Changbin nods, he breaks into a smile. “I produce songs!”

When Jisung and Felix meet each other’s gazes, they exclaim in unison, “Collab!”

The conversation forges itself after that.

Because Jisung does want to go out before it gets dark, he rounds up everyone, and they all walk outside to the orchard.

The trees, in their neat rows, are blooming spectacularly in a sea of smooth white blossoms.

“It’s so pretty!” Chan says, and Jisung nods in agreement. They’re all walking, splitting up naturally between the aisles.

Minho, who’s on Jisung’s right, leans in towards him. “I’ve never seen apple blossoms before,” he says, voice low, like it’s a secret to be kept between them. When Jisung looks up at him, there’s a light in his eyes, like something’s blooming there, too.

“Really?” Sometimes Jisung forgets that not everyone lives his life. “Then c’mon, hyung, let’s go look around!” And he grabs Minho by the wrist, not giving him space to hesitate, and into the trees they walk.

Jisung’s never done magic with apple blossoms before, but he can tell they’ll do well for sleep; the petals are soft and thick, and they’ll be able to hold everything he wants to give them.

There’s a lovely, springtime air that’s blowing gently through the trees, and Jisung breathes it in. Spring is good for him.

“You never said what you were making with the apple blossoms,” Minho says, and Jisung turns to him. He’s tied his flannel around his waist, so now he’s just in a white shirt with cinnamon-colored writing that matches the part of his hair lit up by the dwindling sun.

“It’s an apple cake! I’ve been wanting to make one lately, I got some really nice apples from the market this morning!” Then Jisung pauses for a second, eyes wide. “Oh my God. That was this morning. It feels like it was, like, a couple days ago!”

Minho laughs. “Time flies, I guess. It does feel like we’ve been here for longer than just an hour.”

Jisung nods, enthusiastically enough that his bangs fall into his face. He combs them back with his fingers. “Yeah, ‘s pretty crazy.”

They continue on, walking down the aisle, laughing together as Jisung picks blossom after blossom off the trees, putting them into the tupperware he brought, and talks Minho’s ear off about the Peach & Lily cleanser he wants to get.

He doesn’t realize how late it’s gotten until Minho points to the sky and tells Jisung to look at the sunset. It’s pretty, and it washes Minho in a soft pink light that prompts Jisung to take out his phone and tell Minho to pose.

The pictures come out nice. There’s one of him holding a blossom, and one of him doing aegyo with the blossom, and two of him laughing after he did the aegyo.

(There’s also one Jisung took before he told Minho to pose, one of Minho just looking up at the sky. That one’s Jisung’s favorite.)

“Hmm, we should probably head back,” Minho says, after their laughter has calmed down. “Have everything you need?” At Jisung’s confused look, he continues. “For your cake?”

“Oh!” Jisung skips over to him and links their arms together. “Yeah, sorry, I forgot that that’s why we’re out here.” He makes a show of taking out the lid to his container and sealing it up, patting the top when he’s done.

They join the others, and walk all together back to the house, just in time to see a red Prius pull up next to Changbin’s black Camry.

Jisung watches as a boy with red-brown hair steps out and waves cheerily at them, before opening the passenger door and straightening up, holding a couple grocery bags.

He bows when he’s closer to their group. “Hi!” He flashes a full smile, eyes crinkling. “I’m Seungmin!”

They fall into small talk and introductions on the way back inside, and just in time too; it's beginning to get dark. The kitchen, which had always felt a little too big when Jisung was a kid, just feels full now. Warm. The lights are on, and Seungmin's already dishing out stories of Changbin Jisung could only dream of as he puts the groceries away.

“He really just dropped it! Just like that! It just slid right out of his tiny little hands, right onto the floor. I think I might even have a video. Gosh, none of us could even speak for, like, two minutes.”

Changbin, who's sitting next to Chan and looking particularly tiny because of it, buries his reddening cheeks in his hands and groans as everyone laughs. “Minnie, when will you stop telling that story to literally everyone we meet?”

“When it stops being funny,” Seungmin replies, grinning innocently. Jisung's side hurts from how hard he's laughing.

They fall into place easily, so easily it feels like the six of them have been together for ages. Felix laughs, head thrown back, at every quip that falls from Seungmin’s mouth, and Jisung’s home.

He and Changbin start dinner, and that homey feeling sticks, and Jisung’s smiling so much that he knows the food will taste wonderful. How could it not, when it was created in such a lovely atmosphere?

Because when they’re finished cooking it’s still warm outside, Changbin turns on the porch lights and starts up a fire in the fire pit while Jisung brings the dish of japchae outside, Chan trailing after him with a stack of bowls.

They all get situated on the wooden benches around the fire pit and pass around chopsticks. Now Chan and Minho are taking turns recounting their craziest college experiences together, and Seungmin’s listening attentively, sporting an expression that says, clear as day, ‘I hope all of this happens to me,’ and the crickets are chirping in the background, and Felix keeps bumping Jisung’s shoulder playfully.

They head in a bit later, and Felix ropes everyone into playing Jenga, even though Chan protests.

(“Playing with Felix is so stressful. He picks the worst possible blocks to pull!”)

It's nice. Jisung likes it like this, under the yellow lights of the kitchen, where time seems to move a little strangely. (The clock on the stove says it's late, but the sunset's lingering in Jisung's mind, his thoughts tinged pink the way Minho's face was in the fading sunlight. There's magic brewing in that color, in that moment. Jisung can feel it humming at his fingertips.)

Jisung stands up after another round of Jenga ends, and asks Changbin if it’s okay if he makes something for dessert.

“Sure,” Changbin answers. “Here, I’ll help.” He makes to stand up as well before Seungmin beats him to it.

“My turn, hyung,” he says with an easy smile, and he joins Jisung at the counter, rolling up the sleeves of his button-down. “What’re we making?”

“Cookies!” Jisung says, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I was thinking shortbread; what d’you think?”

“Sounds good to me.”

Seungmin bakes more meticulously than Jisung does, but they work well together. He doesn’t question when Jisung tucks up the dough in saran wrap and places it on the counter where the yellow kitchen lights wash over it. (It’s not heavy magic, but the lights hold a certain energy that Jisung thinks will pair nicely with the vanilla of the shortbread. Like under the setting sun, everything’s tinged golden. Golden moments, golden days. Yeah. Vanilla goes well with gold.)

Once the cookies are in the oven, everyone migrates to the living room floor, where Changbin has gathered what a pile of looks like all the blankets and pillows in the country, into which Felix immediately flings himself.

They take a very long time deciding what movie to watch, long enough that the cookies are done and cooling before they’ve narrowed it down to two.

Jisung hops onto the counter as Seungmin puts on a pot of decaf, listening to the others argue.

“I’m really glad we met you!” Jisung says, swinging his legs back and forth, tapping his feet gently on the cabinets. It’s unprompted, but it’s true, and Seungmin deserves to hear it.

Seungmin gives a shy smile in return. “Thanks. I’m glad I met you, too. Hyung mentions you a lot, you know. Lots of crazy stories; I was wondering if I’d ever know the boy who walked into a lamppost because he saw a cute dog. Twice in ten minutes.”

Seungmin laughs, high and clear, when Jisung buries his face in his hands. “That’s the only story he ever tells about me, I swear.”

“Well, I’d say it captures your personality pretty well.” At that, Jisung just smiles harder.

“Oh, wait, let me put on the kettle? Y’all have tea, right?”

Changbin and Minho have, apparently, won the battle over which movie to watch by the time Jisung follows Seungmin back into the living room, because the Netflix screen for _Mulan_ is up and ready. Jisung sets his tray of mugs down on an ottoman and hands them out, while Seungmin does the same with the cookies on his own tray.

Chan pouts as he’s handed his mug. “Sung,” he whines. “I can’t even have decaf?”

“Nope. No coffee, remember?” Jisung shakes his head emphatically.

“What if I fall asleep, though? Tea always makes me sleepy.”

“Good. You need to sleep more.”

(Jisung had to improvise on the tea, since what he usually makes Chan is a blend he mixed himself. He slipped outside to where he remembered seeing the snowdrops growing outside and picked two petals off one.

Since they’d been in the moonlight for a while, they’d do the job well enough. He washed them off, then dried them, then dropped them into the tea as it steeped, fishing them out with the teabag when the timer beeped.

Hopefully that will be enough to ease Chan’s mind for tonight.)

The cookies are wonderful. Seungmin reaches across Minho to high five Jisung when Felix says so, and he does it again when Chan repeats similar sentiments.

Felix digs around in his bag for the sleeping mask he brought and passes the bottle around.

“Is this a new one? I don’t think I’ve tried it,” Jisung says as he rubs it in. It’s cool against his face, and it smells nice.

“Yep! Stopped by Riley Rose before coming here, since I thought it’d be nice to bring one.”

Jisung sniffles and wipes away a fake tear. “My Lixie, always the most considerate.”

“Only for you.” Felix blows him a kiss.

They put on _Zootopia_ after _Mulan_ ends. Jisung’s sleepy now, and he leans over to put his mug and plate somewhere they won’t get knocked over before returning to his original spot.

He’s sitting up, blinking open hard in an attempt to stay awake, shoulder to shoulder with Minho. He keeps drifting off and catching himself in the same instant. Watching the screen hurts his eyes a little.

Minho nudges his shoulder gently, and when Jisung turns to face him he’s smiling a bit. Jisung can see the screen reflected in his eyes. “You can sleep if you’re tired,” he whispers.

Jisung is about to protest, but when Minho lifts up his arm he loses any resolve he had to stay awake. He scoots a little closer, so his head is laying on Minho’s shoulder, and Minho wraps his arm around Jisung’s waist, securing him in place. Jisung’s asleep almost instantly.

He wakes up, bleary-eyed and a little disoriented, to silence, and to a room filled with the bluish-gray light of the not-quite morning. The stillness is cool around him, but Minho’s warm right next to him, so Jisung shifts until he’s properly curled into Minho’s side and lets his eyes close again.

He wakes up, for good this time, to the sound of a conversation drenched in laughter and a room filled with orange sunlight. He’s still bleary-eyed and disoriented, but that’s normal for Morning Jisung.

“Morning,” Minho’s voice sounds from above him, and Jisung blinks up at him.

“Good morning!” he says, as cheerfully as he can with his voice all raspy from sleep. “Sorry for keeping you down here.” He laughs, pushing himself up off Minho’s chest and shifting until he's sitting on his calves. “You could’ve just tossed me off, y’know; that’s what Felix does when I fall asleep on him.” He runs a hand through his tangled hair.

Minho just shrugs. “I didn’t mind. You seemed like you needed the rest. Besides,” he adds, eyes shining. “I don’t think I’m missing much out there.” He says it quietly, like it’s a secret, and Jisung can’t help the giggle that escapes his chest as he tunes into the conversation floating out of the kitchen.

“Thanos wouldn’t last point-two seconds against Gordon Ramsey! Gordon Ramsey wouldn’t even have to say anything, he’d just look down his nose at that grape-lookin’ motherfucker and Thanos would put all the discounted Michael’s craft gems in his collection directly into the blender and turn it on without putting the lid on!”

Minho laughs with him, quiet in the space between them, and it feels like a secret.

Jisung stands up first, and he holds out a hand to help Minho up.

They walk into the kitchen. Chan’s cutting up a pineapple (“He’s the only one I trusted with a knife,” Changbin tells Jisung, laughing when Felix squawks indignantly despite not trusting himself with a knife) and Changbin’s stirring something on the stove.

The oven light is on, and Jisung crouches down to try and see what’s inside. “Baked oatmeal?” he gasps, looking up at Changbin, wide-eyed. Changbin nods, ruffling Jisung’s hair. “I haven’t had this in forever, man!”

He pops back up and sits in the empty spot next to Chan, stealing his mug for a sip. It’s tea, even though Jisung’s pretty sure the others are drinking coffee. He gives Chan an ecstatic smile and receives an attempted wink in return.

"Jisung!" Felix says, and it's loud enough and sudden enough to make Jisung jump in his seat. Chan grabs his shoulder, and it’s the only thing that keeps him from falling off his chair. “Your skin looks so glowy! That mask worked really well for you!”

“Really?” Jisung reaches forward for Minho’s phone—it’s lying on the table, and Jisung’s is in the other room—and opens the camera. “Oh my God, you’re right! Woah,” he turns his head side to side, watching how the sunlight streaming in through the window illuminates his skin. “You said you got it at Riley Rose? What was the name?”

“I don’t remember; I’ll send you a pic, though.” Jisung looks up and around, and his smile grows.

“It worked so well for everyone! Y’all are radiant. Damn, Felix, you totally pulled. I’m buying this the second we get home.” He turns off Minho’s phone and places it back on the table.

Chan walks over and plonks the bowl of pineapple and a trivet on the table, then slides into the seat next to Jisung. Changbin follows a moment later, with the pan of baked oatmeal that smells so good Jisung thinks he’s going to tear up and a bowl of dark blue-purple sauce.

“Oh, it matches your hoodie, Chan-hyung!” Felix says, so delightedly it’s hard not to be excited with him. Chan smiles, and it takes up his whole face.

“It’ll match yours too, soon,” Seungmin deadpans.

“I’ll have you know, Kim Seungmin,” Felix says proudly, “that I am a very clean person, and not a drop of that blueberry sauce will make its way onto this hoodie!” It’s a white hoodie with some English writing on it, one of his favorites. It’s one of Jisung’s favorites, too; he always steals it, but he isn’t sure where Felix got it. (He asked Felix about it, once. Felix doesn’t know where he got it either.)

Sometime after everyone starts eating, Seungmin giggles, and everyone turns to him. “Oh, sorry,” he mumbles, still giggling. “Jisung, you eat like a squirrel.” He sounds very happy to have discovered this.

Changbin is the first to laugh, immediately pulling out his phone. Oh no. This isn’t going to be good.

“This is karma for the cake story,” Changbin says, glaring; it’s probably meant to be threatening, but Jisung thinks the last time he was scared of Changbin was in first grade.

“I didn’t even tell that story!” It looks like Changbin’s scrolling through his camera roll. “It was Seungminnie.”

Changbin ignores him, and hands his phone to Minho.

“Aw, Jisungie!” Minho looks up at Jisung, face lit up. “This is so cute! You look like a squirrel here, too!”

Seungmin joins in, looking over Minho’s shoulder. “You were the most adorable child I have ever seen.”

Jisung splutters, turning to Changbin, who really is looking a little too smug for Jisung’s liking. “You're showing them my baby pictures?”

Whatever response Changbin was going to offer is immediately drowned out by a deafening cry.

“Jisung! You! Were! So! Cute!” Felix punctuates each pause with a clap. “I want to pick you up and put you in my hoodie pocket! You were so tiny! I’m going to burst into actual flames, why are you the cutest most adorable baby in the world I love you so much.”

He looks like he’s actually about to start tearing up, so Jisung gets up and goes around to hug him from behind his chair. Changbin grins. “That was taken on the first day of first grade. When we met.”

Felix clutches his heart and sighs, letting himself go completely boneless in the chair and in Jisung’s arms.

“There’s a whole album,” Changbin adds, and Felix looks so happy Jisung can’t even pretend to be annoyed.

“To be honest, you don’t look that different now,” Chan says.

“Yeah,” Minho chimes in, eyes shining. “You’re still really cute. And small.”

“I’m not that small,” Jisung protests, but it dies out when the others fix him with the LookTM.

“Sorry, could you repeat that? I couldn’t hear you over your hundred sixty-nine centimeters.”

“Binnie-hyung’s shorter than me!”

“Yeah, but your baby energy cancels it out.”

Jisung doesn’t have anything to say to that, so he goes back to his seat, picks his spoon back up, and eats more baked oatmeal. Chan laughs his comfortable laugh, with his eyes crinkling and his cheek dimpling, and slings an arm around Jisung’s shoulders.

The conversation moves on, but they stay together like that. Jisung focuses on the magic humming all around them, shimmering an entire sunrise.

Beautiful magic for a beautiful time.

It feels like they’ve been staying forever instead of one night when Jisung pulls Seungmin in for a tight hug goodbye. They exchange numbers, and Seungmin reminds him to actually bring the container of apple blossoms home with him.

(It’s still too easy to forget that that’s technically the reason he came.)

Then Jisung latches onto Changbin, who pretends to roll his eyes but hugs him back just as tight.

“Stay in touch, yeah?” Jisung says, muffled in Changbin’s shoulder. “I’ll send you the recipe for the apple cake if it turns out nice. And you and Seungminnie need to come visit me sometime soon.”

“Of course,” Changbin replies, equally muffled from Jisung’s hair. Jisung sways them back and forth a couple times before letting go.

He links arms with Chan on the walk back to the train station, skipping ahead of the others. The ride home passes quicker than it did on the way there.

“That’s actually because you’ve already seen the scenery,” Minho explains when Jisung voices the thought. “On the way here, everything was new, so your brain … it felt like your brain was taking a longer time to process it, so it felt like the ride here was longer. Now that you’ve seen it, you don’t need to process—to think as much about the new-ness of your surroundings.”

Jisung doesn’t sleep on the way back, just puts in one earbud and stares out the window. _Vanilla_ plays as he watches green and blue and gray blur away in front of him and Felix rests his head against Jisung’s shoulder.

It’s nearing sunset when Jisung arrives home. He showers, then gets into his pajamas and flops on his bed, windows open and a candle burning on his nightstand. It’s daffodil scented, a gift from Chan. He brings his book back out and reads for a while, allowing himself to unwind.

It’s nearing moonrise when Jisung gets up and makes his way to the kitchen. He gets out his tupperware of apple blossoms and sets up his speaker, allowing the slow melody of _Medicine_ lull the kitchen to a slower pace.

Heat milk on low in a saucepan, stirring occasionally.

Jisung waits until it’s warm before drizzling some honey into the milk, and after stirring a bit more to make sure it’s all combined, he drops the apple blossoms in.

They should only soak for around five minutes, so five minutes later Jisung fishes them out with a spoon and rests them on a plate on the windowsill, right where the moonlight is falling.

They’ll be ready in the morning.

The morning comes, and Jisung wanders out to take the apple blossoms out of the window, which is now filled with sunlight, before getting ready to head to work.

The day passes quickly, in a flurry of customers and sunlight poking through the clouds and exchanging silly facial expressions with Chaeyoung. Not many people are looking to buy a car first thing Monday morning, so they mill around the lot and pretend-pitch the cars to each other in the time before anyone comes in.

Jisung slaps the roof of the car. “This bad boy can fit so many grains of rice in it.”

“Sold. Finally, something that can fit all my rice.” Chaeyoung mutters with the poshest accent she can muster, patting down her pockets. “Now, where is my checkbook?”

Jisung snorts, and Chaeyoung grins. The day passes quickly.

The Aussie Apartment has a balcony big enough to fit the four of them.

It’s pretty out, the May afternoon transitioning easily to evening with a gentle breeze. Gentle enough that they can play Uno without having to cling to their cards, anyway. It’s nice, carding through Jisung’s hair. Refreshing.

Like Jisung, Felix came from work, so there’s a box of chocolates sitting in the middle of their circle. Jisung eats a marzipan truffle, giggling as Chan puts down a draw two card and Felix groans.

Minho slides open the slidey door, carrying two glasses of water, one of which he sets down in the place next to Jisung where’s he’s sitting and the other of which he hands to Felix.

Jisung pouts, turning to Minho and looking up at him with the puppy-dog eyes that made Felix actually cry once. “None for me?”

Minho scoffs, nudging Jisung’s thigh with his foot. “Get it yourself; you have legs.” But he heads right back inside anyway and comes out with a glass for Jisung.

Jisung beams. “Thanks, hyung!” Minho seems to space out for a couple seconds, eyes still resting on Jisung, but he blinks before sitting down and offers Jisung a soft smile in return.

He shines with the light of the pink sky all around him, and he’s sprawled out so his thigh is pressed against Jisung’s.

Felix puts a card down. "Uno," he says smugly.

"Dammit Felix," Minho says, but any conviction that statement may have had is lost by the way he yawns halfway through Felix's name.

“You have six cards left,” Felix points out. Jisung stifles a giggle behind his hand at Minho’s stare of complete and utter betrayal.

It’s later now, and they’ve packed the cards away, and Felix’s animatedly telling a story about this guy who came into work yesterday.

“Yeah, he just walked right in, carrying a wine glass filled with red wine. Like,” Felix gestures, “to the brim. He had a tote bag that looked like it was completely empty, and he brought one of Adele’s CDs up to the counter and asked what it was.”

Chan laughs. “Give him a break! It was clearly his first day on Earth.”

Minho snorts next to Jisung, and Jisung turns to look at him, smiling along as their eyes meet. The sky’s darkening but Minho’s still bright.

Minho yawns again, and Jisung lifts up his arm. They’re close enough that Minho only needs to lean over a couple inches to rest his head on Jisung’s shoulder and let Jisung wrap an arm around him.

“You doin’ okay, Minho?” Chan asks.

“Yeah, just a little tired. Might be the weather.”

Chan nods, but Jisung can see he’s a little worried. Well, maybe ‘worried’ is too strong a word. He looks like he’s thinking. Then he just grins, and turns to Jisung. “Oh, Sung,” he claps his hands together, “I think Felix and I are running on low on that tea you make? I’ve been drinking more lately; it’s nice with all the heavy summery-ness.”

Chan isn’t running low on that tea, because he made some for Chan last week.

“Oh, you make tea?” Minho asks, interested, looking up at Jisung.

“Yep! The blend I make is for sleep; it’s nice for calming down and, like, winding down. Helps with insomnia, too.”

“Our Sung has the best cures for insomnia,” Chan says proudly, shooting Jisung a wink that looks more like a face scrunch when they make eye contact.

“I have a lot at home, I can bring some over soon.”

Minho moves his head closer, more into the crook of Jisung’s neck than on his shoulder, and Jisung rests his cheek on Minho’s hair. It tickles.

Jisung sees Chan and Felix exchange an undecipherable look.

He feels like that John Mulaney meme. _Now, we don’t have time to unpack all of that._

Chan checks his watch. “It’s Monday today, right? Yeah, Sung, your next bus comes ‘round eight, I think. Not trying to kick you out—you’re welcome to stay, but you mentioned wanting to get home on the early side.”

Jisung nods, slowly so he doesn’t jostle Minho too much. “What time’s it now?”

“Ten till. Want me to walk you out?”

“Yeah, that’d be nice. Thanks!”

Chan just smiles as a response, and Jisung gently pinches Minho’s side through his shirt. Minho whines, and Jisung can’t see his face but he knows Minho’s pouting.

“I gotta get up, hyung,” Jisung sings. His fingers move up to Minho’s head and he tugs on a random lock of Minho’s hair.

When Minho raises his head, he pulls on Jisung’s dangly earring in retaliation. Jisung just giggles. Minho seems to zone out again.

“Try and rest tonight, m’kay? Let me know if I can do anything to help.” Jisung whispers to him as they hug goodbye. Minho’s eyes glitter like a promise but he doesn’t get to say anything back before Felix literally yanks Jisung into his arms.

(He’s got a knowing smile on his face as he hugs Jisung, telling him to get home safe, and Jisung gets the sneaking suspicion that that knowing smile has something to do with earlier.

Whatever. He’ll spill later.)

Chan waits with him at the bus stop until the 94 comes, and when Jisung’s gotten on Chan flashes a finger heart at him before turning around and walking back home.

It’s quiet at home, and dark. It’s that summer dark, though, where it never quite seems to reach night. Jisung turns on the light above his stove, changes into his pajamas, then takes off his makeup.

 _Shut Up and Dance_ plays as he pushes the sleeves of his hoodie up to his forearms and washes each of the apples, lining them up on the counter beside the sink.

To prepare cake:

Set aside thinly sliced apples with sugar and cinnamon. Toss until blended.

It’s a lot of tossing, Jisung finds out soon enough, and his arms are sore by the time he deems everything thoroughly mixed. He sets the apples off to the side, pours all the cake ingredients into a new bowl, and stirs them together.

Jisung hasn't used his bundt pan in a while, and it takes him a hot minute to remember where he put it, but when he finds it he greases the inside and takes a handful of the apple blossoms * and places them face down on the bottom, petals splayed out.

(*The more apple blossoms used, the more powerful the effects. For insomnia, the recommended amount is around ten.)

Alternate batter and apple mixture in the pan, beginning and ending with batter. Bake at 350 for an hour and a half or until a knife inserted comes out clean.

The cake is cooling on the counter when a knock sounds at the door. Confused, Jisung glances at the clock. 11:49.

He swings the door open, and there's Minho, looking pale in the dark and small in his hoodie.

"Minho?" Jisung breathes, eyebrows furrowed. He steps aside to let Minho walk in.

"It smells amazing in here," Minho offers instead of an explanation.

"Thanks. I made that apple cake I was talking about earlier."

There's a moment of silence.

"Sorry, I—" Minho cuts off, running a hand through his hair. He looks tired. "I couldn't sleep, I haven't been able to for a while, and something happened near my apartment and I just …. I didn't wanna be alone."

Jisung exhales. At least he's okay. "Well," he says brightly, bouncing up, "you're just in time! Here, let me make you some tea."

Minho offers a shaky smile. "Thanks, Jisungie."

Jisung gets the cat mug he gave Minho last time and his Café du Monde one for himself and puts enough water in the kettle for both of them.

He also cuts two pieces of his cake. It's made for sleep, after all, and that's what Minho needs.

Minho's curled up on Jisung's couch, clutching a pillow to his chest, when Jisung makes his way over. Jisung sits close, but not touching. He hands Minho the mug and the plate.

"You should send this recipe to Changbin," Minho comments, sudden in the silence.

"Huh?" Jisung asks through a mouthful of cake.

"You said you'd send the recipe, right? If it turned out well? It's really good."

Jisung beams. "Thanks, hyung! I've been wanting to make it for a while, I'm glad I could make it for you."

Minho smiles gratefully. It looks like some of the weight’s been lifted off his shoulders.

They talk for a little longer after that—well. It's mostly Jisung talking, and Minho commenting and smiling when Jisung laughs at what he said. But there's another silence that falls, and Minho still looks troubled.

Jisung leans forward and uses the pad of his thumb to smooth out the crease between Minho's eyebrows. Minho barely has a chance to look surprised before Jisung's holding both his hands and tugging him up to his feet.

"C'mon," Jisung sings, grinning with his whole face.

"What're we doing?" Minho asks, and his eyebrows are furrowed in confusion. Jisung can't help but pinch his cheek.

"You dance, right?"

Minho nods, and his gaze is heavy on Jisung as Jisung walks over to his speaker and turns his playlist back on. _Timebomb_ starts playing.

"C'mon, dance with me."

And Minho does, once Jisung’s pulled him enough.

Jisung may not know how to dance, but he knows how to make people smile. And he knows Minho.

Minho shines when he dances, even if it's not on a stage, or in a studio. Even if all he's doing is twirling Jisung around in the space between Jisung's living room and kitchen and laughing when Jisung sings along.

Minho shines as he smiles, eyes alight, and when the song ends Jisung leans against the wall, not letting go of Minho's hands.

Jisung can hear the telltale beginning of _Surrender_ and he swings his and Minho’s intertwined hands back and forth in the space between them to the beat as he mouths along.

He drags Minho into the bathroom not much later, after they finish their tea, and Minho’s starting to look sleepy. After they brush their teeth, Jisung perches his phone facedown on the windowsill and puts on his 1975 playlist.

 _You_. Minho yawns, and Jisung smooths cleanser over his face. He offers the jar to Minho.

 _Me._ Toner, then _Is There Somebody Who Can Watch You_ and another toner. “How many substances do you put on your face?” Minho asks, sounding mildly amazed.

“Just a few more,” Jisung says. Essence, serum, serum.

 _A Change Of Heart_. Jisung decides on a sleeping mask instead of his usual night cream. He puts the tube in Minho’s hand first.

“Mm … what’s this?” Even his words are sleepy.

“Sleeping mask.” Jisung watches Minho nod, and he counts the seconds in beats of the song.

“It smells nice,” he comments, and Jisung grins.

“Yeah, this one’s my favorite!”

_fallingforyou._

Jisung sings along—”Don’t you see me?”—as he leads Minho to his bedroom and hands him a hoodie and some pajama pants, which Minho wriggles into immediately before throwing himself on Jisung’s bed. They fit him well; it’s a good thing Jisung wears so much oversized stuff.

Minho’s eyes are still shining when he looks up at Jisung, even when they’re clouded with sleep. Jisung looks at him, really looks at him, runs a hand down the slope of his shoulder.

“Okay?” he asks, and he knows Minho knows he’s not asking about the clothes, or sharing the bed, or anything other than what Minho is feeling.

Minho visibly relaxes, the tension bleeding out of his body as if he breathed it out. He nods, and he’s holding the eye contact with Jisung but he looks almost … shy.

Jisung moves his hand up to Minho’s forehead, brushing back the hair that’s fallen in his eyes. Then he leans forward and kisses Minho on the forehead with an exaggerated “Mwah” that makes them both laugh.

“Get some rest, m’kay? You don’t have to worry; I’ll keep you safe.” Jisung says, in that same exaggerated manner that makes Minho’s eyes shine.

(He hopes Minho knows he means it anyway.)

“My Jisungie, always so kind,” Minho mumbles before he shifts so he’s lying in the warm plane between Jisung’s body and the quilt laying on top of them, eyes already falling closed.

Jisung looks at him for a moment, wondering what could have happened to have Minho so shaken up. He mentioned something near his apartment, right?

He thinks then that maybe the night can heal Minho, so he eases himself out of bed, painstakingly slow, to tiptoe across the room and nudge the window open, keeping the curtains open too. Night air, night light. Minho will be alright.

And he thinks that maybe he can heal Minho too, so when he eases himself back into bed, even more slowly, he drapes his arm around Minho and pulls him closer.

He’s warm when he wakes up. That still, morning warmth where everything’s suspended in time.

It’s nice, with Minho there next to him. Well. Not exactly next to him. Minho’s turned onto his stomach, with his face buried in Jisung’s pillow and one arm and one leg sprawled out across Jisung’s body.

It’s cute, Jisung thinks, smiling sleepily to himself. Minho’s cute.

He would get up, start something for breakfast, but Jisung knows nothing’s quite as important as sleeping is when you want to heal. And he doesn’t mind staying here with Minho as Minho heals.

He falls somewhere back into that uncertainty between asleep and not for the time it takes Minho to wake up. His eyes are closed against the light that’s streaming in through his window, and Minho’s weight on him is comforting.

It’s a nice morning; that much he can tell from the air coming in. He’s thinking about what to make for breakfast—he’s thinking smoothies, maybe orchids will help Minho like they do Chan—when Minho wakes up.

Jisung opens his eyes, and there Minho is, looking right back at him.

Even sleep, it seems, can’t dampen his spark. Minho’s eyes shine in the morning light.

Jisung does end up making smoothies. He’s off work today, and Minho doesn’t need to go in till later, so they hang around. Minho showers first, and when Jisung hands him a pile of clothes he smiles like Jisung’s given him the world.

“I love these socks!”

Jisung beams. “Aren’t they adorable?” They were a gift from his aunt. They’re covered with little cartoon cats playing with little cartoon balls of string.

Minho nods. “Thanks, Jisungie.”

They end up going to Target. Minho drives, and he lets Jisung plug his phone in and play more of The 1975, and he grins when Jisung makes a microphone of his fist and sings along.

(”And this is how it starts.”)

The sky is gray and overcast, but there are patches of sunlight falling through and lighting up the trees on the sides of the highway.

Minho loops his arm through Jisung’s as they walk through the doors. “Ready for battle?”

Jisung smiles up at him. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

It’s not actually much of a battle. Jisung has a Starbucks gift card so he pulls Minho in there first.

Minho sips his latte as they walk around, and Jisung feeds him pieces of his lemon poundcake. Neither of them needs anything in particular, but they browse all the same. When they’re in the clothing section, Minho leads them right to the socks.

“Wait, I saw … ah! Here.” He grabs a pair of gray-and-green socks and hands them to Jisung. “You like _How To Train Your Dragon_ , right? You were reading one of the books on the train.” He blinks, furrowing his eyebrows. “And Felix mentioned you had the movies, I think.”

The socks have dragons on them. Jisung throws two pairs into their basket. “Well, we need to match, hyung,” he reasons when Minho looks confused, nudging Minho’s side playfully.

They’re making their way through the kitchen appliances aisle, Jisung stopping to admire just about everything, when Minho clears his throat.

“So … uh. About last night.” His voice wavers, just a little, so Jisung unhooks their arms to reach down and grasp his hand.

“You don’t owe me an explanation, or anything,” Jisung says. “If that’s what you were thinking. It’s what I’m here for, yeah?”

Minho nods. “Yeah! I just … I just think I wanted to tell someone?”

Jisung tugs on Minho’s hand until Minho looks at him, smiling gently when their eyes meet. “Then I’m all ears.”

They’re in the home decor section when Minho starts. “I haven’t been sleeping well, I guess. For … for a really long time, now that I think about it. Just been hard to put my mind at ease, y’know? Which was fine, or whatever. I’m surviving.

“But then one of my neighbors, this sweet lady who sometimes makes cookies for everyone on our floor, she goes outside and I can hear it all from my window, this bunch of people from the DWS is accusing her of being a witch and they were getting violent and I really just. I couldn’t stand it.”

There’s an icy feeling that blooms in Jisung’s stomach at the mention of the DWS. He pushes it down, and intertwines his fingers with Minho’s.

“I went down there, and it was kinda dying down but somehow I got her out of there.” Minho’s voice is really shaking now. “I walked her back up, got her patched up and stuff, and then I just remember not wanting to be alone. You were the first person I thought of.”

They’ve stopped walking, and Minho’s looking at the floor. “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Jisung says, before he pulls Minho into a tight hug. Minho holds him even tighter, burying his face in Jisung’s shoulder. Jisung can feel him take a deep breath.

“Thanks for listening,” Minho says, quiet but earnest, as they pull apart.

“Always!” Jisung links their arms together again, but he stays closer than before.

“Oh, hey.” Minho points to a small black tub on the shelf with his free hand. “Didn’t you say you wanted that?”

Jisung looks closer, and yeah, he did. It’s the Shea Moisture mud mask. He hadn’t even realized they were in the skincare section.

Jisung gasps when they enter the book section, and bounds over to a shelf. Minho looks on when Jisung picks up a cartoonish _Frozen_ picture book. _A Warm Welcome_.

“Oh my God!” Jisung says excitedly. “Look!”

Minho’s eyes shine. “Finally, something for your reading level.”

Before they check out Jisung picks up a pack of Oreos and a carton of orange juice, pouting because they don’t have the big containers of the Snapple peach tea.

Then they head home.

“What time does your class start?” Jisung asks. Minho taps his fingers on the steering wheel. The gleam of the red light highlights his face.

“Five. I usually open at four thirty, though, in case anyone wants to come early.”

Jisung hums, thinking.

“Why do you ask?”

“I’m trying to figure out if we have enough time to stop for food.” Jisung rubs his stomach dramatically. “All that shopping really took it out of me.”

Minho snorts, switching lanes. He raises his arm near his face and glances down at his bare wrist. “According to my watch, I only have time if you’re paying.”

(Despite his words, Minho doesn’t let Jisung pay for anything they order, not even when Jisung hits him with his best puppy-dog eyes.)

Minho offers to drop Jisung at home, but Jisung wants to see the studio, so they pull into the parking lot. Jisung’s trying his best to convince Minho to let Jisung see him dancing.

Jisung gasps. “Or you could teach me something!” When Minho laughs, Jisung tugs on his arm. “C’mon, hyung. Teach me to dance!”

Minho sighs. “Only until people start to come in.”

Jisung cheers.

Around ten minutes later, when people start to come in, Jisung stays true to his promise, though it’s nice to have Minho guiding him through this cool jump—it’s called a tour jeté, all fancy and French—even if Jisung can see that the way Minho’s eyes are shining means he’s trying not to laugh.

(“Hey, not all of us have been trained dancers for two thousand years, okay?”

Minho blinks, then the laugh comes out. “Oh, my darling.” He pats Jisung’s head. “You’ll have to train for a lot longer than two thousand years if you want to be on my level.”)

Jisung picks up Minho’s keys, swinging them around his index finger a few times as he calls out to Minho. “Hyung, I’m just gonna get my stuff from your car.”

He doesn’t listen to what Minho yells back. It was probably an okay, anyway. He comes back with his two Target bags bumping against his knee and sets them down on the floor near the door before heading back into the studio room.

“Just put ‘em in my bag,” Minho says when Jisung reappears. He’s leaning against the barre, and the two students who’ve arrived are stretching on the floor in the other corner. Jisung is about to ask what he’s talking about before he remembers he’s still holding Minho’s keys. He looks closer at the keychain. There’s a little sushi-cat charm. It’s quite obviously the cutest thing in the world.

When Jisung glances back up, Minho’s already looking at him. They have the same thought in that moment, Jisung knows they do, and he’s walking forward as Minho’s opening his arms.

Minho’s always been able to read him best, after all.

Jisung basically crashes into Minho, but it’s okay. Minho’s got him. Minho wraps his arms around Jisung and holds him close, a thank you and a promise and an I-love-you all at once.

Jisung hugs him back even tighter.

(Well. He tries his best to. In his defense, Minho’s a dancer, which means his arms are really strong.)

Minho kisses Jisung on the top of the head, then pulls away to ruffle his hair. Jisung makes a face, and they both laugh.

“I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“See you later.” Jisung throws him a peace sign as he backs out of the room, before collecting his Target bags and walking out of the studio, heading towards the bus stop.

When he gets home, he packs up a jar of his tea for Minho. Hopefully that’ll keep him sleeping well. He puts the jar in his bag, along with the pair of dragon socks he got at Target for Minho so they could match. He’ll drop them off at Minho’s tomorrow.

Jisung’s cold when he wakes up.

Somewhere in the night, he must’ve kicked off his blankets and now he’s suffering for it.

Okay, maybe that’s a little dramatic. It is summer, after all, and it’s not like it’s chilly outside, or inside. He just feels cold.

He rolls out of bed very gracefully and slides over to his closet to pick out a hoodie, slipping it on as he unplugs his phone and checks his notifications.

_Dreme teme (5)_

_lix_ **_♡_ **

_IT IS WEDNESDAY, MY DUDES_

_AaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAA_

_minho hyung_

_do u have to do this every wednesday_

_like do u really_

_lix_ **_♡_ **

_Yes!!!! It is very very necessary hyung trust me_

Jisung grins, and opens his conversation with Minho. He walks as he types, moving into the kitchen to start water for tea.

_minho hyung_

_Jisung_

_hyung~_

_can i stop by ur place after work ?_

_minho hyung_

_can i ask why_

_Jisung_

_no_

_minho hyung_

_alrighty then_

_sure_

_u have my address right_

_Jisung_

_yep!!!!!!!!_

_minho hyung_

_cool_

_u better stay for dinner_

_ill make pajeon_

_Jisung_

_well who am i 2 say no to that_

_minho hyung_

_ill see u later then_

A loud whistling suddenly registers, and Jisung jumps. He hadn’t realized the kettle was going off.

_Jisung_

_see you then~!!!!_

Jisung double checks his bag before he leaves—Minho’s tea, check; Minho’s socks, check; wallet, check; hand cream, check; lip balm, check. He nestles his phone into the chest pocket of his button-down before walking out.

_lix_ **_♡_ **

_lix_ **_♡_ **

_Chan and I are going to get pizza and binge watch harry potter!_

_Want to join?_

_Jisung_

_as much as it physically pains me to say this_

_i must decline_

_;-;_

_i’m having dinner w minho hyung!!_

_lix_ **_♡_ **

_I see_

_Lmao guess that means I don’t have to ask Minho either_

_Well you two have fun!!!!! Be safe and all that_

_(Ｏ≧∇≦)Ｏ_ **_♡_ **

_Jisung_

_u know me_

_ <3 _

He slips in his earbuds on the way to Minho’s, timing his footsteps with the beat of _Rollercoaster_.

Minho opens the door about thirty seconds after Jisung knocks. His hair is pushed back from his forehead, and he’s wearing cat slippers.

He steps aside to let Jisung in first, and it’s nice. Inside Minho’s apartment. It’s a darker feeling than Jisung’s; he’s got a candle burning on the mantelpiece, and the windows are open but the curtains are drawn over them. And—

“Oh my God, is that a kotatsu?”

Minho grins. “Hell yeah.”

“I’m moving in.”

“Whatever you want, sweetheart.” Minho takes Jisung by the elbow. Jisung just manages to kick his shoes off before Minho drags him into the kitchen.

“I’m just about done in here,” Minho says, walking to the stove. Jisung slides up onto the countertop beside him, swinging his feet. There’s the same feeling in here as there was in the living room—kind of dark, sweet, warm—and as he suspects there is throughout the whole place.

Which makes sense. It’s a feeling that Minho carries with him, after all.

Jisung closes his eyes, leaning his head back against the cupboard and letting that feeling overwhelm him. It’s nice. Minho has soft piano music playing somewhere; soft enough that Jisung didn’t hear it when he came in. He can barely hear it now, over the sizzling of the pajeon in the skillet.

When Minho finishes, he taps Jisung on the thigh. Jisung opens his eyes.

“C’mon,” Minho says, a soft smile on his mouth. “It’s nice out, let’s eat outside.”

Jisung nods, and slowly slides down until his feet are on the floor. Minho’s shirt rides up over his stomach as he reaches into a cupboard and brings down two mason jars.

“Water okay? I have iced tea, and, like, regular tea. I mean, I can make some, if you want.”

“Water’s good,” Jisung says. “But! That reminds me.” He walks out of the kitchen without elaborating to get his work bag, and brings out the container of tea and the socks, handing them to Minho when he returns. Minho’s eyes shine when he looks at Jisung.

“I had too much of that tea anyway,” Jisung says, and Minho nods, placing the jar on his counter. “And you forgot your socks,” he adds when Minho focuses on them. “Really, how are we supposed to match when you don’t even have your pair?” he sighs. “I wore mine.” He pulls up his pant leg, and Minho grins, scrunching up his nose cutely.

“Be right back.”

He comes out a minute later wearing the socks. Jisung beams.

They get situated out on Minho’s balcony, and Minho’s got a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, and it’s getting dark out here but there are fireflies starting to come out. Jisung traces the dots of light that appear, then disappear, then reappear.

Minho’s got wind chimes up here, and they jangle cheerfully in the cool breeze.

There’s a sort of magic out here that reminds him of inside. He’s always loved fireflies, and coupled with the shadows and fading sunlight it feels almost like a dream. (Almost. Minho’s presence grounds him, keeps him from drifting out completely.)

Jisung leans against the bricks, and takes a bite of his pajeon. His eyes widen.

“This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten,” he tells Minho. Minho giggles. A firefly lands on Jisung’s shoulder.

“Try it with the sauce, then.”

Jisung does. “Alright, a correction. This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”

The way Minho's eyes shine reminds Jisung of the fireflies.

They spend a while out there. Jisung can't really say how long, because somewhere between the moonrise and Minho's laugh, keeping track of time fell to the back of Jisung's mind.

Jisung shivers.

It doesn't even register that he shivered at all until Minho nudges his shoulder.

"You cold?"

Jisung is halfway through saying "No" when he realizes he is kinda cold, but judging from the look on Minho's face he wouldn't have believed Jisung anyway.

Minho lifts up a corner of his blanket, and Jisung scoots over so Minho can wrap it around the both of them. It’s comfy, especially when Jisung leans his head on Minho’s shoulder.

Jisung can hear the crickets clearly now, alongside the steady beating of his heart. Or maybe it’s Minho’s; he can’t really tell.

Minho rests his cheek on top of Jisung’s head, and the moonlight’s magic is saturated in the heavy air, and it’s all so familiar he closes his eyes just to feel more.

“Wanna go get ice cream?” Minho asks into the kinda-silence. Jisung can feel the vibrations of his words from where his head is rested, and when he nods his head Minho laughs.

“Your hair’s tickling me,” he whines, and then Jisung’s laughing with him.

When Minho pulls out his phone, 11:32 flashes back at him. “Oh, shit, it’s late. Last bus was at ten, right? Want me to drive you home?”

Jisung pouts. “It’s a long way, and it’s late. I don’t wanna inconvenience you.”

“You wouldn’t be,” Minho says, slipping his phone back into his pocket and opening the door to the balcony. “But you can also stay over, if that’s easier.”

Minho knows him too well, apparently, because the second Jisung opens his mouth Minho adds, “That’s not an inconvenience, either! No taking a taxi. How do you think I’d feel if my best friend was all cold and alone in a taxi without me to hug him?”

Well, how can he argue with Minho’s puppy-dog eyes? Jisung opens his mouth, then closes it, then opens it again. And closes it. Minho really is powerful.

And he knows it, because he’s already taking Jisung’s hand and leading them both back inside. He drags Jisung into what Jisung discovers to be his bedroom, rifling through his closet before throwing a mass of clothing directly into Jisung’s face.

Jisung just stands there for a second, vision completely obscured, before he takes it and unfolds it. It’s a hoodie, with little Pusheens all over it. It’s the most adorable thing Jisung’s ever seen.

And it’s the comfiest thing he’s ever worn, too. “Just so you know, you’re never getting this back,” Jisung says once he’s put it on, shoving his hands into the pocket.

Minho looks back from his closet at this, and he’s got this soft little smile on his face that’s got Jisung warm in the chest.

(Or maybe that’s just the hoodie.)

“Well, obviously, I’m never asking for it back. I clearly bought it for you,” Minho says, and when he moves closer Jisung can see a pink flush tinging his ears. Minho pinches Jisung’s cheeks, then cups his face and squishes it into a fish face. “My cutie Jisungie,” he coos, before dissolving into giggles.

“Ah, ah, ah, no, no,” Jisung says when Minho tries to get in on the driver’s side of his Jeep. Minho turns, confused. He’s shining under the streetlights of the parking lot. “I’m driving. This is non-negotiable.”

Minho blinks, then shrugs and hands over his keys. “You can drive a stick, right?”

“I work at a car dealership. I can drive anything.”

“Cool. I trust you.” And Minho walks around the car to slide into the passenger seat. Jisung tries to be subtle about adjusting the seat—yeah, he’s shorter than Minho, and what about it—but if the way Minho’s mouth turns up at the corners is anything to go by he definitely noticed.

Then Jisung rummages through his bag and fishes out his glasses case.

“I, uh. Didn’t know you wear glasses,” Minho says, and his voice sounds a little strained.

Jisung turns and cups his face like a flower. They’re nothing extravagant, just circular gold frames. “Only when I’m driving. I can see fine without them, but, y’know. The law, and all that.”

“Ah. I see.”

Jisung twists his whole body around in his seat to look at Minho. “Was that a pun?”

“Maybe so.” They hold the eye contact like a staring contest. Minho blinks.

Jisung locks the doors, then turns on the ignition. “Okey dokey. Start up some jazzy tunes, my dude,” he tells Minho, placing his arm around the headrest of Minho's seat and twisting around so he can reverse.

“Never say that again. I’m begging you.”

Jisung only grins, and then Minho giggles, and then they’re both singing along to _You Belong With Me_ as Jisung drives them to what Minho claims is the only valid ice cream place in South Korea.

“You make a full stop at stop signs?” Minho snickers as Jisung counts out three seconds. The beginning of _Fearless_ starts. “Fuckin’ nerd.”

Jisung snorts. “I don’t need to lecture you about safe driving, do I?”

“Not if you want me to pay for your ice cream, you don’t.”

“Aw, you’re paying for me? See, I knew you loved me.”

Minho just blows him a kiss in response.

To Minho’s credit, the Only Valid Ice Cream Place in South Korea is very good. It closes at midnight, and it’s 11:56 now so they sit in the car with the breeze flowing past. Jisung licks at his cone—cookies and cream, because what’s the point of eating ice cream if it’s not cookies and cream?—and Minho’s sipping at his milkshake—vanilla, which is good if you can get past the fact that it’s not cookies and cream.

Jisung’s focusing very intently on not letting the ice cream drip down the cone and onto his fingers, and he’s startled by a flash.

Of course it’s Minho.

“C’mon.” Minho drags it out, flipping it to front camera. “We gotta document these important memories! What else will I use for the wedding video?”

Jisung laughs, and Minho takes a burst.

The drive back home feels quicker, and, soon enough, Minho’s handing him a toothbrush and some pajamas.

“There’s face stuff in that cupboard behind you,” Minho says, nodding in the direction of said cupboard. Jisung smiles, already slipping the hair tie off his wrist to tie his bangs out of his face.

“Thanks, hyung.”

When he opens the cupboard looking for cleanser, he’s surprised to find the Peach & Lily Power Calm one. Pleasantly surprised. It looks new.

He’s excited to try it; he’s had a Peach & Lily tab open on his phone for about six months.

He’s even more excited when he discovers that Minho also has the Peach Slices Citrus-Honey Aqua Glow moisturizer—something else he’s been meaning to try for forever.

“Hyung!” he calls, and Minho pokes his head in a moment later.

“Hm?”

They seem to realize at the same time that Jisung’s not wearing a shirt; he gave up on that a long time ago. The collar always gets wet when he washes his face. It’s exhausting.

Minho looks a little more flustered by this than Jisung feels; there’s that pink flush on his ears, same as before.

It’s cute. Jisung feels his mouth curve into a smile before remembering the reason he called Minho in.

“I didn’t know you liked Peach & Lily! I’ve been lusting after this brand since, like, the beginning of time,” Jisung says.

“I don’t.”

“Huh?”

“I don’t like Peach & Lily,” Minho elaborates, and at Jisung’s wholehearted gasp he hurries to continue. “I don’t not like it, either! I’ve just never tried the stuff before. You mentioned the brand to me,” Minho mumbles, his ears turning pink again. Jisung steps closer so he can hear him properly. “And I thought it’d be nice to have around for you. Y’know. Just in case.”

“I mentioned it to you?” Jisung scrunches his face, trying to remember when that was. Honestly, it could have been at any time. He has a tendency to ramble about skincare, but he normally only does it to Felix. Everyone else kinda tunes it out.

Minho nods. “Yeah. At Changbin’s. When we were picking the apple blossoms.”

“Oh.” Now it’s Jisung who feels flustered, and there’s that warmth in his chest again. All it takes is a glance in the mirror to tell it’s on his cheeks, too. People don’t normally pay attention to him like that.

Before either of them can blink, he’s darted forward and pulled Minho into a hug. “Thanks, hyung,” he says, mostly into Minho’s shirt. Minho’s hands are warm and sure on his back.

Minho presses a fluttering kiss onto his bare shoulder. It tickles. “Anything for my Jisungie.” He tugs at Jisung’s mini ponytail when they pull apart.

“Anything, you say?” Jisung starts, opening his eyes and batting his eyelashes. Minho laughs, bright and right from his chest.

“Am I gonna regret that?”

“Can you get my lip balm from my bag?”

“You have legs,” Minho counters, but he’s already backing out of the room. Jisung giggles, and smooths some of the moisturizer onto his face.

He presses the tube into Minho’s hand when Minho returns with Jisung’s stick of Carmex.

“You gotta try it, hyung. It’s like a dream,” Jisung sighs, picking up the Pusheen hoodie and slipping it back over his head before putting on the lip balm. Minho obliges.

“It smells really good,” Minho says. “Like … like citrus.”

“Must be why it’s called Citrus-Honey.”

Minho pins Jisung with a glare through the mirror, but all Jisung can do is throw back his head and laugh.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” is all Minho says. Jisung rolls his eyes and pokes Minho in the side.

“Don’t act tough, hyung. You love me.”

Minho can’t hide the light in his eyes. “I do,” he sighs.

And then they’re back in Minho’s bedroom, and Minho’s blowing out the candle and holding up the comforter for Jisung.

“I love you too, you know,” Jisung says quietly, once they’re all settled. “You’re my best friend.” He feels shy saying it, and determinedly keeps his eyes on the ceiling, even when Minho turns on his side. Even when Jisung can feel Minho’s gaze tracing his face.

There’s that magic again. That shaft of golden light peeking through leaves, falling in patches through clouds. That’s where Minho’s from, Jisung knows. That’s who Minho is.

That beautiful place. That beautiful person.

Jisung turns on his side, turns towards Minho, and curls into him. Here, he’s okay. Here where Minho’s heartbeat is steady against his temple, where Minho’s arm pulls him in, where Minho holds him close, holds him tight.

“Good night, Jisungie.”

“Night, Minho-hyung.”

Here, he’s safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yep . felix and chan know what the HECK is up
> 
> note: peach slices citrus honey aqua glow is my favorite moisturizer ever ..... its jus .. chefs kiss
> 
> [playlisty !!!](https://music.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL2EJG-r4L00KfabGMFwr9d8gfoKdyML0C)  
> I Run To You — Lady Antebellum  
> Everything Has Changed — Taylor Swift ft. Ed Sheeran  
> Wolves — One Direction  
> It’s Not Living (If It’s Not With You) — The 1975  
> Walk Me Home — P!nk  
> House of Gold — twenty one pilots  
> I Found You — TAEYEON  
> Far Too Young To Die — Panic! At The Disco  
> We Own The Night — Selena Gomez and the Scene ft. Pixie Lott  
> Sing Me — Day6  
> Closer — OH MY GIRL  
> Like a Fool — TWICE  
> Campfire — Seventeen  
> From Now On — The Greatest Showman Cast  
> Golden Days — Panic! At The Disco  
> Best Part — Day6  
> Daylight — Maroon 5  
> 20 — SEVENTEEN  
> Hericane — LANY  
> Secrets — OneRepublic  
> Make You Feel My Love — Adele  
> Wine — TAEYEON  
> Fire on Fire — Sam Smith
> 
> again thank you for reading my lovelies <3 kudos n comments are , of course , always appreciated !!
> 
> until we meet again :)


	3. where you are, there is light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes i have a chem test tomorrow that i completely forgot about yes im gonna fail bc im gay and dumb and what about it : )  
> edit: i got the test back and i got a 97 which scientifically proves that minsung makes u smarter !! be gay do crimes and go to school kids
> 
> anyways !! my darlings !! here is chapter number three :D
> 
> this is .. lowkey .. my favorite chapter of the fic so im excited for yall to read it !!!!!!!! see if u can guess what my favorite scene is hehe
> 
> baby playlist in the end notes <3
> 
> thank you all so so much for your lovely comments , when i say each one made me smile like a lovey dummy fool i truly mean it , every one of u is an absolute TREASURE and guess what ??? i treasure u
> 
> warning for an anxiety attack near the end !! it's short and mild but i wanna make sure u lovelies stay safe !! it'll be marked with a ❀ before and after
> 
> love ya :)

Honeysuckle for calming: banana bread

2 c all-purpose flour

1 tsp baking soda

½ tsp salt

½ c butter

1 c granulated sugar

2 eggs

1 c mashed, very ripe bananas (about 2 bananas)

⅓ c milk

1 tsp lemon juice or vinegar

½ c chopped nuts

honeysuckle

To prepare honeysuckle:

Note: this step must be done in the rain.

Juice honeysuckle, until you have about a whole teaspoon of juice.

The little bell in the back of the shop jingles faintly when Minho opens the door.

“Hi, Innie!” Jisung calls cheerfully. To his delight, Jeongin pops up from behind a bookshelf somewhere in the world history corner and heads over.

“Hi, hyung.” He grudgingly accepts Jisung’s smothering hug. “How’s that cookbook coming along?”

Jisung shifts a little on his feet, grinning bashfully and fidgeting with the rolled-up sleeves of his button-down. “It sure is coming.”

Jeongin snorts. His braces flash silver in the dim light. Jisung steps back and links arms with Minho.

“Innie, this is Minho-hyung!” he says brightly, looking up at Minho. “Hyung, this is Jeongin.”

Jeongin has a look on his face that Jisung recognizes—it’s his I-have-tea-to-spill-to-Felix look. What the tea is, Jisung has no clue.

He decides not to dwell on it too much, and tugs Minho to his favorite section of the bookstore: the cookbook section. He hears the trot music Jeongin always plays when he’s on shift pause, and something soft and romantic take its place. He decides not to dwell on that too much, either.

“Look, hyung!” he beams, gesturing to an empty space on the shelf in front of them with the arm that’s not linked with Minho’s. “I had Jeongin set aside a spot. He said he’d put up my cookbook, if I—and I quote—‘Stop being dumb and finish it soon.’”

“Well, based on what you’ve made for me so far,” Minho starts, “it’ll be a great cookbook. I think you’ll finish it soon.”

Jisung waves his hand in an exaggerated ‘Oh, stop it’ motion, flashing a winning smile. And then Minho continues.

“As long as ‘finish it soon’ doesn’t depend on ‘stop being dumb.’”

Jisung recoils, clutching his chest and groaning like he’s been shot. “Oh, that hurt, hyung. Really. You wound me.”

Minho’s answering laughter fills up their narrow aisle. It feels like a secret.

They spend most of the afternoon milling around the bookstore. It’s one of Jisung’s favorite places; he’s always come here alone, though, just because there’s something about the magic of a used bookstore that’s so powerful. He’s easily drawn in.

He still feels the pull of the magic; how could he not? But Minho’s here, and he grounds Jisung, keeps him from getting too lost in it all.

He has nothing to worry about, not if it’s Minho.

Jisung picks up a worn-out book that looks interesting and sits on the floor, knees up to his chest, to read it.

He gets a little carried away. Just a little. He reaches the end of the first chapter and figures he should probably find Minho, so he stands up, not stumbling over anything at all, and tucks the book under his arm.

That same soft music is still playing as Jisung unsteadily makes his way back to the front counter. (His leg’s asleep.) Minho and Jeongin are talking. When Jisung reaches the counter he sidles up beside Minho and leans his head on his shoulder.

Minho slips an arm around his waist without pausing in what he’s saying, and Jeongin gives Jisung a LookTM. Jisung’s not sure what that’s about.

“Did you find anything?” Minho asks, tapping his thumb against the fabric at Jisung’s hipbone.

Jisung nods, and he places the book on the counter for Jeongin to ring up.

“That everything?” Jeongin asks, punching in something on the iPad.

“Yep.”

“Two hundred million dollars.”

And before Jisung can reach for his wallet Minho’s handing over his card, ignoring Jisung’s noise of protest. Jisung pouts at Minho as he slips the book into his hoodie pocket. Jeongin has his tea-spilling look again.

“Bye, hyungs!” Jeongin calls as they walk towards the door.

“Bye, Innie!” Jisung calls back. When he turns around to wave goodbye, Jeongin’s already on his phone, typing furiously.

It’s cooled off a bit now, but the sun’s still peering down on them as they set off down the street.

Jisung looks at Minho, shining like always underneath the sunlight. Minho seems to be doing better. A month of Jisung’s sleeping tea has helped him a lot—he’s sleeping well, now.

(Of course, it’s not like Minho’s insomnia was miraculously cured. There are still nights where he can’t settle down. But Minho’s ringtone in Jisung’s phone is set loud enough to wake Jisung if he’s fallen asleep.)

“Wanna stop here? They have the best hot chocolate,” Minho grins, gesturing in front of them.

“You wanna drink hot chocolate? In this economy?” Jisung asks, raising an eyebrow. He follows Minho anyway.

It’s a cute place, Jisung thinks, with tall brick walls and large windows framed with long, green vines dripping down the sides, sporting purple-and-white flowers the size of Jisung’s thumb. The air smells like coffee, and there’s a soft hum of conversation floating about.

“You wanna get us a table?” Minho asks. “I can order.”

“Sure.” So Jisung reaches into Minho’s hoodie pocket and takes out his book, then detatches himself from Minho to start off on his quest. There are more rooms than he thought there’d be. He ends up finding a table near the back, where there’s more windows spilling that golden light everywhere.

He sits, and he gets out his book just for something to do other than staring off into space and waiting for Minho to return from the war.

When Minho does return from the war, he’s carrying two mugs and a plate. He spots Jisung immediately and heads over.

“I know it’s warm out, but this hot chocolate will, without a doubt, change your life,” Minho says, plonking one of the mugs onto the table in front of Jisung, and then he puts his mug down, and then the plate.

Jisung looks up at him, still resting his face on his fist. “You got cheesecake?”

Minho shrugs. “You said it was your favorite. It’s not like not getting it was an option.” Then he places a fork over on Jisung’s side.

Jisung smiles into his hand. “You gotta eat some, too. That’s non-negotiable. And what’d you get?”

“Cinnamon latte.”

Some sort of telepathic connection is made between them, and they switch mugs wordlessly, each taking a sip before switching back.

“These are pretty mugs,” Jisung says, because they are. His is a light blue-green, and Minho’s is a deep purple, and there are little white swirls painted on them.

“I like the one at your place better,” Minho says, twirling one of the strings of his orange hoodie around his finger. (How he’s wearing a hoodie in this heat, Jisung doesn’t know.) He must be talking about Jisung’s cat mug, which if Jisung is being honest is more Minho’s cat mug at this point.

They split the cheesecake, and Jisung drinks his hot chocolate.

(It does change his life. He took his first sip and his eyes got so wide that Minho couldn’t help but laugh.)

“Can I see the book you got?” Minho asks, so Jisung slides it over to him. He reads the back, then twists it around to look at the front cover. The light from the window falls onto his face like it was meant to be there.

Minho looks up, and he smiles like he knows what Jisung’s thinking. His eyes are lit up gold with the sun. Seeing him feels a little like breathing.

“It looks good, Jisungie.”

“You can read it when I finish!”

They stay there for a while, even after both their mugs are empty and the sky has darkened. Just talking, with Jisung tapping his heels back against the legs of his chair and Minho’s gaze steady and strong.

There’s magic here; Jisung can feel it humming underneath his skin. It’s in the plants surrounding the windows, and it’s in the red brick walls and the white tiled floor, and it’s in that hot chocolate, because it really was life-changing. (Jisung knows he’ll be dragging Minho back here again and again.)

It’s in the way Minho looks at him, chin cradled in both his palms, attention unwavering even as Jisung rambles on. Minho’s eyes aren’t lit up gold anymore, but they’re lit up with his unconscious smile. He nods along with what Jisung’s saying, and he laughs that infectious laugh that leaves them both leaning backwards, stomachs hurting, when Jisung cracks just about the lamest joke he’s ever come up with.

_Dreme teme (4)_

_channie_

_Fleix just found his old set of planet earth dvds whos coming to MOVIE NIGHT_

_Jisung_

_fleix_

_lix_ **_♡_ **

_Fleix_

_(๑◕へ◕๑)_

_channie_

_Moving on_

_Movie night is tonight lads …... come whenever_

_Jisung_

_i’ll think about it~!_

_lix_ **_♡_ **

_We have a watermelon in case you need more reason to come_

Jisung slides his phone over to Minho. “What d’you think?”

Minho grins. “Well, I do love watermelon.”

_Jisung_

_u have convinced us!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_

_minho hyung & i are coming :D _

_see you guys there <3 <3 <3 _

When they do leave the coffee shop, they can just see the last traces of the sunset. Minho takes Jisung’s hand and pulls him in to take a picture.

“For the wedding video,” he sings.

He doesn’t let go of Jisung’s hand as they walk back down the street, and when they reach the bus stop Minho pulls Jisung’s hand up to his mouth and plants a kiss on one of the scars crossing the back of it.

Jisung’s chest gets all warm and nice. He smiles, soft. “Why’d you do that?”

Minho shrugs, eyes alight but words nonchalant. “I wanted to.”

When the bus arrives, Minho steps back to let Jisung on first.

The door to the Aussie Apartment is open when they get there, which really is worrying.

“You shouldn’t leave the door open” is the first thing Jisung says when he’s followed Minho into the kitchen. “Anyone could just come in. What if I was a murderer?”

Chan turns from where he’s cutting up a watermelon and grins. His hair flops over his headband. “Are you a murderer?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Well, then we have nothing to worry about.”

Minho blinks. “Actually, I don’t think that’s how it works.”

Chan just goes back to cutting the watermelon. Minho meets Jisung’s eyes and all Minho has to do is raise his eyebrows for Jisung to giggle.

Felix slides in then—actually slides in, making good use of the sleek hardwood floors and his favorite pair of fuzzy socks—and crashes right into Jisung, who lets out an ‘oof’ and tries his best to keep them both from tumbling to the ground.

He’s mostly successful; Jisung’s life flashes before his eyes, but neither of them falls. He’ll take it.

Chan brings in the bowl of cubed watermelon and a handful of forks and sits on the couch with Minho, leaving Felix and Jisung to “fend for ourselves on the cold, unforgiving ground—how could you be so cruel, Chan? I trusted you.”

Chan pokes Felix’s side with his foot. “Stop being so dramatic.”

Felix huffs dramatically.

Jisung moves forward and turns on the DVD player because the power button on the remote doesn’t work, and when he goes to settle back on the floor he leans against the foot of the couch in the space between Minho’s legs.

They start with an episode about the forest, because Felix insists, and who are any of them to resist his pout?

"Trust me. This one's got a bunch of cute animals!"

"Well, I'm sold," Jisung says, shrugging. He tips his head back onto the couch and looks up at Minho. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Minho replies. He’s smiling softly as he pinches Jisung’s ear, playing with his dangly earring.

Jisung hears Felix laugh, then cough.

Even when Jisung’s looking back up at the TV, crying internally over how cute the pudu is, Minho’s hands stay on Jisung. He plays with Jisung’s hair, or taps on his neck, or twirls his earring around some more. It’s absentminded, his touch. Jisung doesn’t even think Minho realizes he’s doing it.

At some point between episodes, Jisung glances over at Felix, only to see Felix already staring at him. He’s got a strange look on his face, halfway between happy and smug, before he realizes Jisung’s looking at him and grins innocently.

Jisung isn’t fooled. But he turns around a little to look at Chan, who is hugging a pillow to his chest, completely transfixed by the ducklings that are now on the screen, jumping out of a tree.

Jisung reaches for his phone and opens up his messages.

_lix_ **_♡_ **

_Jisung_

_y do u keep givng me weird looks?_

Felix’s phone vibrates on the carpet where it was thrown earlier.

_lix_ **_♡_ **

_Wouldn’t you like to know weather boy_

Jisung whines, sprawling back. Felix laughs. It sounds sinister.

Minho starts combing through his hair again, fingers warm and comforting. Jisung sighs, closing his eyes. He could fall asleep like this, he thinks. The narrator’s gentle voice fades out into white noise as he half-opens his eyes and watches the ceiling fan turn round and round.

He does end up falling asleep. For how long, he’s not sure, but when he’s blinked the drowsiness away he can hear Minho and Felix talking. If it weren’t for the laughter he can hear in both their voices, he’d think they were actually arguing.

“Just seems … interesting to me,” comes Felix’s voice, teasing. “That’s all.”

“I’m sure it does.”

“Hmm,” Jisung hums, still sleepy. “What’s up?” It comes out more like a nondescript jumble of words.

Felix looks confused, and Jisung’s about to repeat himself, hopefully more coherently this time, when Minho replies.

“Not too much. Guess you were pretty tired.”

Jisung raises his head up from where it was laying on the seat of the couch. His back aches from sitting on the floor. He shifts up until he’s sitting criss-cross applesauce facing the couch.

Chan isn’t in the living room anymore, but the worryingly loud sound of a pot clanging around in the kitchen gives Jisung a hint as to where he might be.

Jisung yawns. “Time’s it?”

“Little before ten,” Felix says.

“Mmm.” Jisung rubs his eyes. “I gotta catch the bus.” He stands up unsteadily and stretches his arms up above his head.

He hears Felix giggle, and then he hears a thump. When Jisung looks at the two of them, Felix’s rubbing his shoulder and Minho’s ears are red.

Jisung decides he’s not awake enough to try and figure that out, so he stumbles into the kitchen.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” Chan says, opening his arms for Jisung to run into.

“Hello,” Jisung mumbles back, his chin resting on Chan’s shoulder.

“‘M making hot chocolate, you want some?” Chan looks at the clock on the stove. “I guess you gotta leave soon, yeah? You can take a travel mug.”

Jisung shakes his head. “It’s okay. Hyung took me to get hot chocolate earlier.”

“Oh, did he?” Felix yells from the living room. It sounds like he’s smiling.

Jisung nods. “Yeah.” He smiles, big and bright, and then he turns around in Chan’s arms so Chan’s backhugging him and switches his weight between his feet, making them sway in place. “I had fun! First we went out and got breakfast, at that place down near the Michael’s, you know the one? With the really good French toast? Yeah, we went there. Then we took the bus down to this bookstore that I really love, then we walked around a bit and he pulled me into this café he said he thought I’d like. Then you texted and we came here!”

“That sounds like a really nice day,” Chan says into Jisung’s shirt.

Jisung nods again. His bangs fall in his face. “They always are.”

Minho offers to walk him to the bus stop.

For whatever reason, this makes Felix shoot Jisung another look. Jisung just hugs him and Chan goodbye before opening up their snack cupboard and taking two Oreos out of the package. For the road.

“See you never!” he calls, shooting finger guns at Felix, who groans and clutches his heart like Jisung shot him, before following Minho out into the hallway and letting the door to the Aussie Apartment close behind them.

Jisung hands one of the Oreos to Minho as they trail down the steps and into the lobby, and the wind hits him before it hits Minho when they arrive outside.

He stumbles backwards a bit from the force of it, and in the same moment Minho’s hand is on the small of his back to balance him out again.

“Careful,” Minho giggles from behind him. His breath is warm against Jisung’s neck. Jisung shivers.

“It’s colder out here than I remembered,” Jisung mumbles, hopping over the crack on the sidewalk.

“Probably because the sun went down.”

“Thank you for your contribution, Minho-ssi.” Jisung holds up his fist like a mic and turns to an imaginary camera. “Have anything else you’d like to add for our viewers at home?”

“Ah, yes, I do, Jisung-ssi!” Minho leans into the mic. “Water is not wet.”

“Blocked and reported.”

“You can’t block the truth, baby.”

They break character at the same time. Jisung shivers again, and Minho reaches out and touches the shoulder of Jisung’s button-down; he’s less teasing now. More soft.

“No wonder you’re cold—it’s windy out, and this is so thin!” Minho moves his hand up to the side of Jisung’s face to tug at Jisung’s earring, scolding him. “Really, why did you think this was a good thing to wear on its own?”

“It’s a cute shirt,” Jisung protests. And it is. It’s one of his favorites; a blue sort of gradient made of light, flowy fabric that reminds him of a waterfall. Minho clicks his tongue, already moving to take off his hoodie.

“No matter how cute it is, it’s not warm enough.”

He all but shoves the hoodie at Jisung, and Jisung’s planning on refusing it but Minho’s got this light in his eyes that means he won’t give up.

And Jisung can feel how warm the hoodie is—seriously, Minho’s like a radiator, he’s so warm—and he is kinda cold, and kinda tired, and he really just wants to wear Minho’s hoodie.

He likes wearing Minho’s hoodies. Sue him.

“There,” Jisung grumbles, pouting and shoving his hands in the pouch once he’s got it on. “Happy?”

Minho’s eyes sparkle in the yellow of the streetlights they’re passing under. “Very.” Then he reaches out and loops his arm around Jisung’s waist, pulling Jisung right into his side.

Jisung won’t say it, but he’s also very happy. Minho’s hoodies are nice to wear. They’re warm and soft and they smell nice. Like apples and Dawn dish soap. And maybe cinnamon.

Jisung won’t say it, but Minho probably knows anyway. He always does.

They arrive at the bus stop ten minutes early. Minho’s talking, his voice filling up the otherwise empty street.

“We used to run around outside this one ice cream shop. Like, in its backyard. There was a little stream out there, and there was honeysuckle that bloomed in the summer.”

“That sounds really lovely,” Jisung says, and Minho nods.

“Yeah, it was. I’ll take you there sometime.”

“I’d like that.”

“Me, too.”

Jisung yawns, and turns a little bit so he’s tucked more into Minho, leaning his head into the hollow of Minho’s neck.

“Aw,” Minho says sweetly. “You tired, baby?” His hands come up to cradle Jisung’s head, one staying at the nape of his neck and the other reaching up to card through his hair.

It’s a long way home and he hates falling asleep on the bus, but if Minho keeps this up Jisung’ll fall asleep the second he’s in his seat.

This seems to occur to Minho, too, because he pauses for a second. “You sure you’ll be okay getting home? You really do seem tired, and I don’t want you walking back from the bus stop all sleepy. Or, like, falling asleep on the bus and ending up in a different city tomorrow morning.”

“I’ll be fine,” Jisung says, but Minho has decided not to listen to him.

“You know, drowsy driving is as dangerous as drunk driving.”

“I’m not driving, though.”

Minho pinches Jisung’s ear. “Not the point I was trying to make, baby. It could be dangerous.”

“Why do you keep calling me baby?”

Minho flicks his ear this time. “Why do you keep avoiding my point? I’ll ride home with you.”

Jisung pulls back. “I’m okay, really!” he whines. “You don’t have to.”

“I know I don’t have to. But I want to.”

Jisung just pouts at him in response.

He reaches forward and squishes Jisung’s cheeks. “See, Jisungie, this is why I call you baby.”

Then he takes out his phone and opens up his texts. “Sorry, I just wanna let the others know that I’m going back with you.”

“No worries,” Jisung replies, burrowing himself back into Minho’s side. Minho’s free hand automatically curls around him, and Jisung relaxes into it. Hey, if Minho’s coming with him, that means he can fall asleep on the bus.

He glances at Minho’s phone screen, and he doesn’t read any of the words, but he can see a string of laughing emoticons from whoever he’s texting.

When Jisung steps onto the bus, Minho’s hand stays on the small of his back as he follows Jisung up.

Since it’s so late, the bus is nearly empty. Minho pulls them into a space near the front.

Minho’s warmth, combined with the hoodie’s warmth, and the dull hum of the engine of the bus, and how sleepy Jisung already is all add up to him immediately falling asleep on Minho’s shoulder.

He dreams of a wooden picnic table in the backyard of an ice cream shop, of more long days and warm nights and deep sunsets. He dreams of Minho, and honeysuckle, and that calm feeling that settles over you when you don’t think you’ve ever been happier.

He dreams it so vividly that when he opens his eyes, he’s surprised to see his bedroom rather than that backyard.

He’s less surprised to see Minho next to him once he gets his bearings about him. He remembers Minho walking him to the bus stop, Minho offering to accompany him home, Minho letting Jisung fall asleep on his shoulder.

Jisung looks at Minho now, wearing Jisung's t-shirt and sweatpants, face buried in Jisung’s pillow and limbs spread out like a starfish. It’s endearing.

Then Jisung remembers he didn’t wash his face last night. He brings a hand up to his cheek, and he’s surprised to find it feels as soft as it does every other morning.

He reaches carefully over Minho for his phone to open the front camera, and, sure enough, his face looks clean and glowy.

Jisung sure as hell did not do a single part of his skincare routine last night, not unless being a witch comes with extremely cool sleep-face-washing powers that he didn’t know about until last night. So that means Minho did.

The thought makes something warm and lovely glow in Jisung’s chest, and he’s filled with a burst of happiness so strong he can’t resist the urge to smile into his pillow.

He feels it so much that it fills the air around them, and Minho must feel it, too, because he stirs awake not long after.

“Hi,” is the first thing Minho says before stretching out until what seems like every bone in his body cracks.

“Hi,” Jisung says back. It comes out soft. “Sorry for completely passing out on you last night.”

Minho shrugs—at least, he tries to. He’s lying on his side, so only one shoulder can really move. “Don’t worry about it, really. I’m glad I came with you; you’d have definitely ended up in a new city by the time you woke up.”

Jisung giggles, and Minho smiles into the pillow. “How did we get back? I don’t remember walking, or maybe I was just too out of it to remember.”

“Nah, I carried you in. I got your keys out of your bag. And then,” he says, his words turning playful, “I knew my Jisungie would be devastated if he went to bed without washing his face, so I washed your face and stuff. Put on some of that—what is it called?” He snaps his fingers. “Sleeping mask.”

“You remembered my whole routine?” Jisung asks. “And the mask?”

Minho half-shrugs again. “You showed it to me once. And you said that mask was your favorite, so …” he trails off, not quite meeting Jisung’s eyes. His ear is turning pink.

“Knew you loved me,” Jisung mumbles, shooting Minho a grin and finger guns that make Minho roll his eyes.

Despite the joking, Jisung knows he’s radiating the same feeling he dreamt about, that calm feeling.

When he meets Minho’s eyes and sees that familiar shine, he knows Minho can feel it too.

"C'mon," Jisung says, reaching forward and pinching Minho's cheek, making Minho blink a couple times. Jisung grins, nice and easy. "Hey, it's only fair I get to do this. You do it to me all the time."

"That's because you're a baby. I'm not."

"Well…" Jisung starts. And pauses. It's true that Minho has lost the chubbiness in his cheeks, and he's taller, and his shoulders are broader, and he's a lot stronger. (He carried Jisung from the bus stop into bed last night, Jisung thinks. Of course he's strong.)

He is, objectively, not a baby in the same way Jisung is, objectively, totally a baby.

And yet, Jisung sees Minho on his doorstep again, sees him curled up on Jisung's sofa again; how he found Jisung as if he hoped Jisung could protect him. As if he knew Jisung would protect him. He sees all the times Minho has done shameless aegyo to cheer him up, or laughed wholeheartedly when Jisung does the same for him. He sees the flash of playfulness in Minho's eyes and the catlike curl of his lips, which always mean what he's going to say will make Jisung either flush or roll his eyes. (Or both.) He sees the teasing smile that comes after, and how sweet it turns.

"Well, you're my baby," Jisung says, and he raises himself up so he can pinch Minho's other cheek. Minho's skin warms under his touch.

So maybe Minho doesn't have chubby cheeks, and maybe he's taller and broader and stronger than Jisung is, but Jisung wants to take care of him anyway.

He pulls on Minho's hand. "C'mon," he says again, tugging him up out of bed.

He sends Minho off to work with a "Drive safe," a flying kiss, and a handful of the oatmeal blueberry cookies Jisung made yesterday, wrapped up neatly in one of Jisung's willow tree-patterned cloth napkins.

Felix and Chan are laughing about something when Jisung arrives.

He’s not sure what it is, but it feels like it’s got to do with him, seeing as both of them stop laughing when he swings his bag down onto the table and look up at him with innocent eyes.

“Hi,” he says, cautiously, as he pulls out the chair next to Chan.

“Hi.” They say it at the exact time, which is even more suspicious.

Jisung puts his phone on the table and turns the ringer off before settling down and scooting his chair in. “Have you guys ordered yet?”

"Just drinks," Chan says, slinging his arm around Jisung.

"I got you tea." Felix looks proud of himself for that. Jisung beams at him.

"What were we thinking of ordering?" he asks, paging through the menu. "I haven't been here before."

"Well, I was thinking bibimbap, but apparently their pajeon is pretty bomb, too." Felix leans forward to point it out on Jisung's menu.

"Oh, pajeon? Minho-hyung made some really good pajeon when he had me over for dinner," Jisung muses. He turns the menu over. "Can we get something without mushrooms?"

He looks up for confirmation when neither replies, and only gets the sight of them exchanging another look.

“What?” he asks, really hoping for an actual answer this time.

“What what?” Chan flutters his eyelashes at Jisung.

“You guys keep throwing me strange looks,” Jisung says, pouting. “Is it something I’ve said wrong?”

Felix reaches across the table to ruffle Jisung’s hair. “It’s nothing like that! Promise. You just … mention Minho. A lot.”

“Oh. That’s all?”

Felix nods, earnestly. “Yeah!” He speaks slowly, carefully. “We just think it’s really nice that you’ve become so close. You seem to really fit well together.”

“You think so?” Both Chan and Felix nod. Jisung snuggles a bit into the arm Chan’s still got around his shoulders. “I’m glad. I think so, too.”

“So does Minho,” Chan says. Jisung looks up at him.

“Really?”

Chan grins, warm and soft. “Yep.”

Jisung can’t help but smile.

“Also,” Felix adds, furrowing his eyebrows and frowning, “I can’t believe hyung’s made you pajeon. He’s, like, famous for it, but he never ever makes it when we ask!”

“I’ve known him for forever, and he’s made it once,” Chan says. “Once. For our high school graduation. I nearly cried.”

“Really?” Jisung lets a teasing smile take over his face. “He offered.”

“You didn’t even have to ask?” Chan gasps, a hand on his chest.

Jisung shrugs. “Guess he loves me most,” he says, still teasing.

Chan and Felix share another look before Chan sighs. “Well, you’re definitely right.”

He doesn’t really sound like he’s teasing.

“Sungie,” Felix whines, making prayer hands and sliding across the table to get right in Jisung’s face. “Can you convince Minho-hyung to make us pajeon?”

Jisung opens his mouth to respond, but the waitress comes over with their drinks. Felix meekly slides back up until he’s in a respectable sitting position again and flushes red. Jisung taps Felix’s shin with the toe of his shoe and giggles at him.

To Jisung’s delight, his mug of tea comes with a little saucer of honey. “Is this how they serve tea here?” he asks, picking up the dish. It’s this tiny porcelain bowl with a little handle and a little spout and it’s the cutest thing Jisung has ever seen.

“Felix asked for it for you.”

Jisung covers his mouth with a hand and fans away an imaginary blush. “‘Lix, if you wanted to propose to me, you didn’t have to go to all this trouble. All you have to do to win my heart is give me a sunflower.”

Felix nods, deadpan, pulling out his phone. “Hold on, let me write that down so I can remember it when I do propose.” He taps away at something, but when Jisung cranes his neck to look at the screen he’s texting someone.

“I didn’t know you could text your future self,” Jisung says, giggling when Felix snatches his phone up and out of sight.

“Hey, whatever happened to privacy?”

“You yeet privacy out the window every day when you scroll through my camera roll.”

“Sometimes you forget to send me good memes!” Felix sounds distressed at the thought. “I have to make sure I’m not missing anything.”

Jisung makes a guilty face at the mention of forgetting to send Felix memes, and Felix snatches Jisung’s phone. “I can’t believe you don’t send me….” He trails off, and all of a sudden he’s got an expression on his face that’s a worrying mix of soft, smug, and delighted.

Before Jisung can ask what happened, Felix is turning the phone around so Chan can see it. It’s just his lockscreen, which is a picture of Minho. More specifically, it’s a selfie Minho took on Jisung’s phone and set as his lockscreen while Jisung wasn’t looking. There’s a bunch of them on his phone, a couple from just about every time they’ve hung out together in the past couple weeks.

(Jisung retaliates, of course. The second Minho leaves the room without his phone, not only does he get a string of selfies, but he gets the one Jisung decides is the best saved as his lockscreen.

The first time he did it, he was going to replace the homescreen, too. But he saw that Minho’s homescreen was the picture he took of himself and Jisung in his car when they did that midnight ice cream run, and it really was too lovely to replace.)

Felix scrolls through Jisung’s camera roll, letting out the occasional ‘Aw.’ Chan gently elbows Jisung, who pretends to fall over on the bench.

“Drink your tea,” he says, rolling his eyes, and it’s supposed to be stern but there’s a fond look on his face that he really can’t hide.

Jisung takes great pleasure in picking up the tiny spoon and stirring honey into his tea. “Hell yeah! Get in that leaf juice, you sexy, sexy bee sauce.”

Chan looks vaguely concerned. Felix doesn’t even look up from Jisung’s phone as he replies.

“OP, do you take constructive criticism on your posts?”

Jisung doesn’t miss a beat. “I absolutely fucking do not.”

Chan waves their waitress over. They order the bibimbap.

Jisung’s scrolling through Netflix on his laptop, adding onto his ever-growing list of things he should watch but never gets around to while he waits out the timer on his cookies, when his phone lights up on the coffee table, then again, then again, then again.

He stretches his leg out as far as he can, trying his best to reach his phone without moving, and he manages to nudge it towards him. It bends his leg oddly, but he thinks it was worth not getting up. He grins as he sees his lockscreen: Minho’s newest selfie, one from when he, Jisung, and Chan went bowling the other night—before opening his texts.

_hyunjinnie_

_hyunjinnie_

_JISUNG_

_JISUNG_

_JISUUUUUUUUUUUUUNGG_

_I AHVE TIMPORTANT NEWS_

_Jisung_

_?????_

_!!!!!!!!!!!!_

_spill!!!_

_hyunjinnie_

_PETUNIA HAF KITTENS_

_BABIES_

_BABY KITTEMS_

_THEY R SMALL_

_IM CRYINF SO HARS THEYR SO SMALL_

_THEYRW JUST!!! NOT BIG!!!!_

_COME OVER AN S HODL THEM WITH ME_

_Jisung_

_!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_

_IM ON MY WAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_

_wait is it ok if i bring a friend_

_he loves cats!!!!_

_hyunjinnie_

_aanyone u want!!!!!!!_

_o wait is it the guy ur always talking about??_

_ur minho hyung_

_Jisung_

_yep!!!!!!!!!_

_see you soon~~_

_hyunjinnie_

_!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_

_minho hyung_

_Jisung_

_u busy hyung?_

_minho hyung_

_nope_

_why_

_Jisung_

_you’ll find out~!!!!!!_

_just come over!!!!!!!!!_

_minho hyung_

_mkay_

Jisung checks the timer—there’s still twelve minutes left, so he’s good to get changed.

He wears Minho’s Pusheen hoodie, because it feels fitting for the occasion, and also because it’s comfy and warm. He brushes his hair and smears some lip gloss on his mouth, and he’s pulling on a pair of pretty sunflower socks when there’s a knock on the door.

Jisung slides into the kitchen and over to the front door, swinging it open and beaming at the sight of Minho standing there, fingers hooked in the belt loops of his white-wash jeans.

“Hi, hyung!” Jisung sings. When Minho’s stepped inside and closed the door behind him Jisung sweeps him into a hug.

“Are you gonna tell me what we’re doing?” Minho asks, amused, when they part.

Jisung shakes his head, and Minho rolls his eyes, trying not to smile. “Well,” Jisung says. “I will tell you that we’re going to one of my friend’s houses … I don’t think you’ve met him before? Hwang Hyunjin?” When Minho shakes his head, Jisung continues. “Anyway, I want it to be a surprise but I think you’ll really like it, hyung.”

“If you’re wrong, you have to treat me,” Minho says.

Jisung shrugs. “I’ll treat you for the rest of the year if you don’t like it.”

Minho raises his eyebrows. “That confident, huh?”

“Oh, you bet! I even know what’s going to happen. You’ll stand there, shocked, with your mouth hanging open and your eyes all shiny like they get every time you see something cute, and then you’re going to melt. Mark my words.”

“It’s something cute?” Minho asks.

“I never said that. I said ‘like’, as in a simile. You do know what a simile is, right? It’s a comparison using ‘as’ or ‘like,’ as opposed to a metaphor, which—”

“Yep.” Minho cuts him off. “It’s definitely something cute.” His smile curls into something softer. “You can’t hide things from me.”

Jisung scoffs, tapping his foot. “Yeah, yeah, whatever, Sherlock-ssi.” He shoos Minho away. “Go make yourself useful.”

So Minho opens up the cupboard and gets out two glasses before filling them both up with water from the sink. He places one on the counter, then walks back over with the other until he’s right in front of Jisung.

He reaches down for Jisung’s hand and brings it up to chest level, then opens Jisung’s fist and puts the glass in his palm. Then he closes Jisung’s hand back around it, and pats it for good measure. “Useful enough for you, my liege?”

It’s Jisung’s turn to roll his eyes, and he’s saved from having to hide his smile by the sound of the oven timer going off.

He can see it register in Minho’s brain. “Ah, I thought it smelled different in here!”

“Yep!” Jisung says, turning off the timer and slipping on an oven mitt. “I actually made them earlier, before Hyunjinnie texted, but I decided I should bring him some.”

He takes the tray out and cheers internally. They look perfect! He’s experimenting for new recipes, so he hopes they’ve turned out well.

“What kind?”

“Pistachio and raspberry shortbread!” Jisung says, clapping his hands. “As soon as they’re at a temperature lower than one million degrees we can try them, and then we can pack some up to go, and then we can go out!”

So Jisung hops up onto the counter and swings his feet back and forth, and Minho leans back on the counter beside him.

One of Minho’s hands holds his glass of water and the other rests on Jisung’s thigh, lazily playing with the frayed denim around the rips in his jeans.

They make it to Hyunjin’s around half an hour later.

Minho drives, which means Jisung gets the aux cord, which, of course, means that they listen to SNSD the whole time.

"Gee, gee, gee, gee, baby, baby," Jisung sings, dancing along in his seat. Minho snorts next to him, but Jisung catches his telltale smile.

He's singing along by the second verse, anyway.

Hyunjin's door is open when they arrive. What is it with Jisung's friends and leaving their doors open?

"Hyunjinnie!" he calls.

"In the back room!" someone who is hopefully Hyunjin calls back. Jisung grabs Minho's wrist and shoots him an excited look before toeing his shoes off, placing the container of cookies on the coffee table, and starting down the hallway. Minho wriggles his arm until it's out of Jisung's grip before taking his hand instead, intertwining their fingers.

Jisung nudges the door to the back room open, and they enter together. He's watching Minho's expression carefully as Minho realizes what's going on.

"Jisung! And you must be Minho-hyung!” Hyunjin says cheerily.

Minho’s standing there, shocked, with his mouth hanging open and his eyes all shiny like they get every time he sees something cute. Because he is seeing something cute.

There are four tiny little baby kittens laying across Hyunjin’s thigh. Petunia is curled up in her bed, which has been moved so it’s laying in the sunlight.

One of the kittens opens its mouth and makes a little sound, and Minho melts.

Jisung grins at Hyunjin. “He loves cats.”

Hyunjin grins back. “That one’s Prissy. And this is Tara, and this one’s Melanie, and this one’s Bonnie.”

And just like that, Minho and Hyunjin are spiritually connected. It’s Hyunjin fawning over them, then Minho fawning over them, then Hyunjin again, then Minho again, and. Well. You get the idea.

Jisung, of course, fawns over them too, because they’re just so small. They are just so small, and they are so soft, and their eyes are all sparkly, and did he mention that they’re small—

“Jisungie,” Minho says, and it’s hushed, almost a whisper. Jisung looks up at him, and he’s holding one of the kittens—Tara, if he remembers correctly—up to his chest, cradling her with both hands even though she could probably fit in one. He’s looking down at her, a soft smile on his mouth, eyes sparkly, and then he’s looking up at Jisung. His expression remains the same.

Hyunjin’s not much better.

Neither is Jisung. After all, there is a very very small calico kitten named Melanie pawing gently at his socked foot. She climbs up his leg, butts her head against his stomach, then immediately falls asleep. How could you not fall in love?

Minho gasps. “She licked me! She’s licking my thumb. I love her so much.” He’s glowing under the light of Hyunjin’s flower lamp, Tara curled up in his palms.

Jisung’s known Minho loves cats since the day they met, but he’s never actually seen Minho with a cat. It’s adorable. He’s so gentle with her, speaking with the softest voice Jisung’s ever heard and petting her so carefully and grinning so freely.

Minho is good like this. Too happy to stop smiling.

It’s a bit later when Hyunjin kisses Petunia and each of the kittens on the head one last time and leads them all out into the kitchen.

Jisung remembers that he brought cookies, and goes to get them. When he gets back, Hyunjin’s got a smug look on his face, and Minho’s ears are red.

“You brought cookies?” Hyunjin asks, his smirk dropping and his eyes widening. Jisung doesn’t reply, just hands him the container. Hyunjin cheers.

They eat Jisung’s cookies, and Hyunjin tells stories from work—“Yeah, and then she dropped the second one, too! I damn near cried.”—and there’s this magic in the air, soft and gentle. Jisung breathes it in, light as air, and lets it settle in his chest. It’s calming. It’s nice.

Minho’s got Jisung leaning against him when he asks Hyunjin about the kittens.

“Ah, well.” Hyunjin’s smile falls a bit, his eyebrows furrowed. “I’d really like to keep all of them, y’know? Raise them together. But …” he trails off. “I can’t afford to take care of four more cats. Especially kittens.” He shoves a whole cookie in his mouth and pouts.

“I’m sorry to bring it up so soon,” Minho says, voice low. “I just wanted to say—and you absolutely don’t have to make a decision now on this; I just wanted to let you know—that I’ve been wanting to adopt a cat for ages now, and if you weren’t in the position to care for all of them I would—”

“Yes!” It’s muffled through his cookie, but what he meant to say is clear enough from how he lights up and nods frantically. “Absolutely! If you wanna adopt one, I’d feel ages better than I would putting them in a shelter. You’re so natural with cats, too!”

Jisung giggles at that, and he leans back, reaching up to Minho’s face and scratching under his chin. “That’s ‘cause he is a cat.”

Minho pretends to lick Jisung’s hand. Jisung pulls it far, far away. Hyunjin fills up the kitchen with his laugh.

By the time Minho and Jisung are ready to leave, Jisung has convinced Minho to take in Tara and Melanie, rather than just Tara.

All it took was Jisung holding Melanie up to Minho’s eye level and swaying her back and forth. She yawned, and Jisung could see the moment Minho caved.

(“Well,” he had said. “I guess I don’t want my darling Tara to be all alone.”

Jisung beamed.

Hyunjin snickered.)

_Dreme teme (4)_

_minho hyung_

_guess who just adopted two kittens_

_channie_

_… Im gonna go out on a limb and say its you_

_Thats AMAZING_

_minho hyung_

_!!!!!!!_

_channie_

_Youve been talkin about getting one for ages_

_What made it two?_

_minho hyung_

_jisungie got attached_

_theyre sisters anyway i didnt really wanna separate them_

_channie_

_I see …_

_Jisung_

_so ominous_

_channie_

_…_

_minho hyung_

_anyways_

_[picture]_

_this is tara_

_[picture]_

_and this is melanie_

Jisung opens the pictures Minho sent. The first one is a picture of Tara in his hand. It’s kinda blurry, but you can still see how small and cute she is. He saves it to his camera roll.

The second one is a picture of Jisung with Melanie. In the picture, Jisung’s looking down at Melanie and using two fingers to pet her little head.

“These are so cute, hyung,” Jisung giggles. “I didn’t even realize you took them!”

Minho shrugs. “Prime wedding video material.” His voice is quiet.

_lix_ **_♡_ **

_Just got here what’s the tea_

_OH_

_OH MY GOODNESS_

_Can I come over and see them hyung can I can I can I_

_Please【_ **_・_ ** _ヘ_ **_・_ ** _?】_

_minho hyung_

_they dont live with me yet_

_theyre very young and should be with their mother for a while_

_and i need to catproof my place_

_but i promise you all can come over and kiss them all you want once theyre all settled in with me_

_lix_ **_♡_ **

_Wonderful news!!!!!_

_I, for one, cannot wait_

_(๑ >ᴗ<๑) _

_minho hyung_

_me niether_

Minho turns his phone off and puts it in the cupholder, but he doesn’t start the car.

When he doesn’t say anything, Jisung looks up at him, turning off his own phone and slipping it into his hoodie pocket. He’s about to ask Minho what’s wrong when Minho turns to him.

“Thank you,” he says, and Jisung can hear his sincerity. He smiles.

“Of course, hyung! When Hyunjinnie texted, I immediately thought of you. I think it would have been a crime to not bring you. So you don’t have to thank me.”

“But I want to.” Minho’s eyes are shining in the daylight. “Thank you, Jisungie.”

“I knew you’d love it. Now you have to treat me for the rest of the year!”

Minho makes a face. “‘M pretty sure that wasn’t the deal.” He turns the key in the ignition. “But I will treat you to ice cream, if you want.”

And, well. Who is Jisung to say no to that? He reaches out and takes Minho’s hand, squeezing tight before letting go and letting him back out of the spot.

The drive is farther than Jisung expected. He goes through the rest of his SNSD playlist and starts the Day6 one Seungmin sent him once he found out Jisung likes Day6 too.

Minho taps his fingers against the wheel in time with the beat of _Chocolate_ , and Jisung glances around, trying to figure out where they are.

He thinks maybe they took a wrong exit or something, but Minho seems to know his way around.

They pull into an unfamiliar parking lot facing a cute little building with wooden steps and a wooden swing. There’s an old-fashioned sign up on the roof. The Ice Cream Cottage.

Jisung opens his door and climbs out. Minho’s already standing next to the hood, arm lifted for Jisung to take like they’re ballroom dancing. Jisung curtsies before linking their arms together, and Minho laughs as they walk in together.

The cold air makes Jisung shiver when they enter, and Minho tugs him a little closer. Jisung’s not sure he even meant to do it.

The smiley guy at the counter makes their orders, and Jisung makes to sit at one of the booths but Minho leads him outside instead.

They sit at a wooden picnic table in the backyard, and Minho motions for Jisung to turn around. There’s a honeysuckle bush in bloom, its yellow flowers bright against the green leaves and gray sky.

When he hears the faint sound of rushing water, it all clicks together. Jisung jumps straight up in his seat and smacks a hand on the table.

“This is your place!”

Minho startles away, before frowning and taking the hand that Jisung smacked on the table. “You didn’t get a splinter, did you?”

Jisung moves his hand around. It doesn’t feel like he got a splinter. He shakes his head, a sheepish smile surfacing.

Minho kisses his palm anyway, “Just in case,” before blinking. “And yes. This is my place. You said you’d like it if we came, and I figured now was as good a time as any.”

Jisung nods, eyes wide. “Yeah! It’s perfect! You wanna show me around?”

“I don’t think there’s too much to show, but we can walk around.”

The stream is nice. And the honeysuckle, too, of course. Jisung can see why kid-Minho spent so much time here.

Jisung crouches down, and he picks a flower for Minho, then one for himself.

It’s delicate enough that he can’t really taste it, not in between bites of ice cream, but it’s nice all the same. There’s a lightness to honeysuckle he’s always liked.

And just like that. An idea.

He takes the napkin wrapped around the base of his waffle cone and starts picking the flowers.

“Some for the road?” Minho asks.

“Something like that.”

He folds up the flowers neatly into the napkin and tucks it into his hoodie pouch.

Neither of them wants to head back just yet, so Minho offers Jisung a Premium Tour of the area.

They end up just walking around the park, enjoying the breeze weaving in between the trees. Minho keeps a running commentary going.

“And here is the tree that I broke my arm trying to climb in first grade.” He gestures toward an intimidating oak tree, one with nearly no branches down low. It looks like the worst tree for climbing you could possibly find.

Minho bristles when Jisung says this. “Hey, first-grade me just wanted to flex.”

“And what did you end up flexing? Besides, y’know, your cast.”

“The fact that I was brave enough to try, of course.”

“Bravery and stupidity are often closely intertwined.”

“Tell that to my first grade teacher! I always got perfect scores on my spelling tests.”

“I’ll tell that to the way you misspelled ‘neither’ in the group chat earlier.”

“Moving on,” Minho says seamlessly, readopting his announcer voice. “Here is the giant chess board that I never played on because I never knew how to play chess.”

“No one taught you how to play chess?”

Minho shakes his head. “Nope! No one thought I was smart enough.”

“But what about all your spelling tests?”

“The art of spelling and the art of war are very different.” Minho clutches his heart and looks off wistfully into the distance. “No matter how hot I’d look in a military uniform, you can’t defeat enemies with difficult vocabulary words.”

“Not even ‘iridocyclitis’?” Jisung asks, trying to keep a straight face. It gets hard when Minho narrows his eyes at Jisung.

“Was that a vine reference?”

Jisung gasps. “Oh, Lee Minho!” He pretends to swoon, and Minho catches him with giggles spilling out of his mouth. “You cannot imagine how many sleepless nights I have spent, fruitlessly wondering ‘Will Minho-hyung ever catch one of the references I throw?’ And now I know my answer is yes. Lee Minho, today you have made me the happiest man alive.”

“Today is just the beginning, trust me.” Minho places his hands on Jisung’s waist and pushes him until he’s standing upright again. “Felix keeps on sending me vine compilations.”

“As he should.”

Minho grins at that, and Jisung stills for a moment, just looking at him. Then he starts again, this time walking towards the giant chess board. The pieces reach halfway up his thigh.

“What’re you doing?” Minho asks, following him over.

Jisung claps his hands together. “I‘m gonna teach you how to play chess!”

“What do you mean I can’t move the knight like this? It’s an L shape!”

“You can only move in an uppercase L!”

“But it’s more convenient for me now to move in a lowercase L.” Now he’s pouting.

Jisung pouts right back.

“Fine!” Minho throws his hands up, then moves his knight back to its original spot. “Okay. An uppercase L. I know what that looks like.” Then he moves it five spots forward and four over, trying to take Jisung’s bishop.

“No! Only a three-two L.”

Minho crosses his arms. “Kinda seems like you’re making up rules to keep me from winning.”

“Yeah?” Jisung says, challenging. “You’re gonna take that L.”

Minho raises his pointer finger and brandishes it at Jisung. “I swear to God—”

Jisung doubles over laughing, clutching onto the top of his rook to keep from losing his balance.

Minho bites his lip, but Jisung can see his eyes shine in the way they do when he’s laughing.

“You can’t fool me! I know you think I’m hilarious, hyung.” Jisung strikes a pose with his arms forming a heart over his head.

Minho scoffs. “You wish.”

Felix sends Minho another vine compilation when Minho and Jisung are in the car getting ready to drive back, and Jisung insists on watching it, so Minho holds up his phone in the middle and they both lean in to see it, elbows knocking together from where they’re resting on the center console.

The gray skies open up. Rain pounds a rhythmic pressure against the windshield.

“Road work ahead?” the guy in the vine says. “Yeah, I sure hope it does.”

Minho laughs, and his shoulder bumps against Jisung’s.

Jisung places the napkin of honeysuckle on the counter before going into his bedroom to change into dry clothes. He comes back out, sliding across the kitchen tiles in his fuzzy socks, and puts his entire music library on shuffle.

He carefully opens each flower, letting the juice drip into a glass bowl and humming along with _Can’t Take My Eyes Off You_.

Place the bowl next to a window during the rain.

Jisung pushes his window open and lets the smell of the rain—petrichor, Minho called it, when Jisung brought it up—fill the room. It’ll do nicely with the honeysuckle; it’s heavy where honeysuckle is light.

_minho hyung_

_minho hyung_

_im home_

_Jisung_

_yay!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_

_i’m baking~_

_minho hyung_

_oooh_

_whatre you making_

_Jisung_

_you’ll find out_

_soon enough_

_;-)_

_minho hyung_

_and you call chan hyung ominous_

_Jisung_

_:*_

Jisung hears the roll of thunder outside. Technically, he’s not baking right now; he’ll do that in the morning, when there’s light. For now, he’ll lay on the couch and let the storm wash over him as if he were nothing bigger than the lovely green plants that weave up through the cracks in the sidewalk.

Minho probably likes storms, Jisung thinks. Minho likes comforting darkness, and background noise, and he’s kind of a storm himself, really.

Jisung wants to hear his voice.

So he pulls up Minho’s contact and presses _Call_. Minho answers on the first ring.

“Hey,” Minho says easily.

“Hey, hyung,” Jisung breathes.

“What’s up?”

“Well,” Jisung starts, and yeah, he knows calling just to ask if Minho likes storms is a bit silly, but Minho’s always indulged him even if he is being silly. “I was just wondering if you liked storms.”

He can hear Minho smile. He wonders if it’s one of Minho’s full-blown smiles, where his eyes crinkle up, or if it’s one of his softer ones, where his eyes don’t quite crinkle up but they do shine. “I do like storms.”

“Really?” Jisung asks, excited even though this is what he expected.

“Yep. What about you?”

“Oh, I love storms! I don’t know, I’ve just always found them relaxing, in a way.”

“Did you know they’re soothing because storms release negative ions into the air?”

Jisung laughs lightly. “Hyung, haven’t you learned by now that I never know the things you tell me?” Minho laughs with him. “What do the negative ions do that’s so nice?”

“There are lots of negative ions in places that are, like, in nature. Especially near waterfalls, and forests or mountains. They do a lot of good things for your body. In, like, big cities, though, and other high-pollution areas, where there’s not a lot of fresh air, there are a lot of positive ions.”

“That’s cool!” Jisung says, nodding even though Minho can’t see it. “How do you know all these facts?”

The sound of shifting comes from the other end. Jisung wonders if Minho’s sitting in his living room with his legs tucked under his kotatsu, or maybe if he’s in the kitchen making some tea, or maybe if he’s in bed with the covers pulled all the way up to his chin.

The mental image of Minho in a blanket burrito with just his head poking out the top makes Jisung grin.

“How do I know all these facts? I know it must seem very impressive.”

“Considering all I can spout random facts about is cars or baking, I daresay it is impressive.”

Minho gasps, and Jisung can almost see him clapping a hand to his chest. “Han Jisungie, admitting I’m impressive? I’m gonna have to ask the FBI man recording this conversation to save the audio clip!”

Jisung giggles, moving his feet up so they’re resting on the armrest. “Yeah, better save it, since it’s not happening again.”

“Anyways, since you’re simply dying to know, I know all those fun facts because I am but a vessel for useless information, and nothing else.”

“Nothing else? Why, that’s just not true. You’re full of love!”

“Useless information and love, then,” Minho concedes. “But the love’s only for you, so don’t go thinking you’ve proven me wrong.”

“That love is at the very least split between me and the kittens,” Jisung argues, and Minho lets out a laugh that leaves Jisung warm.

“Correct once again! Perhaps I should stop talking and let you say what I mean.” Minho sounds like he’s smiling, and this time Jisung knows it’s one of the soft ones, where his eyes are shining. The thought leaves Jisung feeling drained of the last of his energy.

“Mm,” he hums into the phone. “Don’t be silly, hyung.” He pauses. “I never want you to stop talking.”

“Are you sleepy? You sound sleepy.”

“No,” Jisung says, “I’m not sleepy, but I—” he yawns. “Damn.” Minho snorts. “Guess I am.”

“‘S okay. You’ve had a long day.” Minho’s voice is sweet, and it’s soft like Minho’s right there next to him. It makes Jisung want to curl up and fall asleep right there, and he can feel his eyelids getting heavier, and—

“No,” he groans into the phone. “You’re making me wanna sleep.”

Minho half-laughs, half-breathes. “Then sleep, Jisungie.”

“I gotta brush my teeth. And wash my face. And change into my pjs. Hyung,” he whines, drawing it out. “Stop making me so warm.”

“Baby, go get ready for bed. Rest well, okay? I wanna take you out tomorrow, too. After work.”

“Yay,” Jisung cheers softly. Minho does that same half-laugh, half-breath.

“Good night, then, Jisungie.”

“Good night, hyung. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

With the lingering comfort of the storm—the storm’s negative ions, Jisung supposes—and the lingering image of Minho’s smile, Jisung sleeps easily.

To prepare banana bread:

Sift the flour with the baking soda and salt. Jisung doesn’t normally sift things in his recipes unless it’s a very meticulous recipe, but the honeysuckle he’s working with is delicate enough for him to play it safe. So he digs his sieve out from the depths of his kitchen cupboards, and rinses off all the dust that accumulated during its lengthy period of disuse.

Jisung plugs in his hand mixer and creams together the butter and sugar. He set the two bananas needed for this recipe aside in a brown paper bag two nights ago so they would ripen faster. He takes them out now and mashes them up with a fork before adding them to the butter-sugar mixture, followed by the eggs.

Combine the milk and lemon juice. This will curdle a bit. Jisung folds a bit of this milk mixture into the bananas, then a bit of the flour mixture. He goes back and forth until everything’s all used up, then stirs in the nuts.

Pour the batter into a buttered pan and bake at 350 for an hour, or until the bread springs back when lightly touched in the center.

When Jisung’s got that in the oven and the timer ticking away, he turns to his window, where he left the honeysuckle juice overnight. The storm has long since cleared up, but the smell of petrichor remains, emanating from the honeysuckle bowl. Jisung breathes it in, and he already feels its calm.

His whole place smells like bananas by the time the bread’s done baking. He checks his phone and replies to Minho’s text about when to pick him up—Jisung says two P.M., so he can have enough time to finish up the bread, then shower and change—and Hyunjin’s eleven pictures of Melanie drinking some water—Jisung scream-texts a whole paragraph about how he would die for her without question.

Once he takes the banana bread out of the oven, it takes two hundred percent of his willpower to not just eat the entire thing right now.

Be strong, be strong, Jisung tells himself as he pokes little holes in the top of the banana bread with a toothpick.

Using a pastry brush or just by pouring, glaze the top with the honeysuckle. Allow to soak in completely before serving.

Jisung leaves it on the counter as he goes to take a shower. When he comes back out, he finds a place for it on his crowded counter.

True to his word, Minho picks him up around two, wearing a bright smile and a black t-shirt that’s tight against his chest and around his shoulders.

“Get in, loser,” Minho says out his rolled-down window when he pulls up in front of Jisung. “We’re going shopping.”

Jisung rolls his eyes and walks around to the passenger side. “No we’re not.”

“No, we’re not,” Minho parrots. “We’re going mini golfing.” He waits for Jisung to buckle his seat belt, wrist draped over the steering wheel. “Have you eaten?”

Jisung shakes his head, and Minho grins like he expected it. “Knew it.”

“How’d you know?”

“My Jisung sense, of course. What d’you want to eat? Wait, wait, my Jisung sense is telling me you want …” Minho trails off, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples. “Udon!”

“Well, I was gonna say jjajangmyeon,” Jisung admits, “but now that you mention it udon sounds pretty good.”

“I’ll take that as a win, then.” Minho starts the car and grins over at Jisung before turning out onto the road.

Jisung’s eyes linger on him—the way his hair’s blowing around from the wind, the way his eyes are shining in the midday sun, the way his shoulders are loose, free of tension, relaxed—and he’s reminded of that calm feeling. That still magic.

Even when everything’s moving past them, rushing past them, Jisung will never have to catch up to Minho.

Well, except for in mini golf. Jisung’s going to blame his lack of coordination on the big bowl of udon he just ate, but really he’s not good at mini golf even when he isn’t on the verge of a food coma.

“Did you only bring me along to flex?” he whines as Minho scores another hole in one, leaning on his club and pouting up at Minho.

“To be completely honest, I did, but I didn’t think you would be this terrible,” Minho says. “Now I just feel bad.”

One puppy-dog-eyed look leads to another, and eventually Minho’s giving in.

“I feel like Sharpay in _High School Musical 2_ ,” Jisung giggles as Minho guides his arms through a swinging motion that won’t send the ball flying directly off the course. Minho snickers and jabs his knee into the back of Jisung’s thigh. “Hey! Not all of us are graceful.”

“You’re not … not graceful. You’re just … enthusiastic.” Minho places his hands on Jisung’s hips to guide him through a swing. “Twist kinda like this, see? Not so forceful, Tiger Woods.”

It’s the sixteenth hole when Jisung scores par. He jump-hugs Minho, and Minho spins him around. Maybe it’s too much of a celebration for too small an achievement, but Minho’s smiling like it’s his own victory, and his eyes are shining, and they’ll take all the chances they can get to be happy.

❀

They’re walking around, vaguely in the direction of some thrift shop Minho thought Jisung would like. Minho’s pointing out this lady’s cute dog, and Jisung’s walking with his whole body twisted so he can look at it, and he’s so at peace with Minho next to him that he nearly misses it when they turn the corner.

He nearly misses it, but he doesn’t.

He feels it before he sees anything. There’s that ice that hangs heavy in his stomach, and it’s spreading out, out, until his chest is cold and his fingertips are numb. Danger.

When Jisung looks up, it’s like slow motion. He sees the black banner. _Death to Witches for Society_.

He takes a stuttering breath, and thinks Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, but it’s hard to think when there’s this much panic.

His hand finds Minho’s like a second nature, but even that can’t stop the tears welling up in his eyes. He’s so scared.

Minho squeezes Jisung’s hand, laughing nervously. “Ah, Jisungie, why do I suddenly feel scared?”

God, now Minho can feel it too, and Jisung would try and calm down so that he’s not spreading his emotions so easily but he can’t focus on anything other than Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. If you cry it’s over.

Jisung looks up at the banner again, at the DWS’s cruel, cruel logo and the man shouting something at a clamoring crowd. He looks like he’s ten feet tall. Jisung has never felt so small.

“Hey, hey,” Minho says, and his voice is a million miles away. “What’s wrong? You’re so pale.” He looks up, and he must see it. Jisung knows he sees it, because Minho had that night with the DWS, where his neighbor was attacked, and now Minho’s looking back at Jisung and he must see the tears in Jisung’s eyes, too, and now he knows, he knows everything, because witch tears may not be a common sight but they are an unmistakable one, and Jisung can’t cry but all he wants is to be safe again.

Everything’s kind of a blur, now, but when Jisung feels Minho let go of his hand he whimpers, the ice returning full force without the warmth of Minho’s hand to act as a barrier, and Minho’s voice is in his ear, “I’m not leaving you, okay? We’re going home.”

When did they get to Minho’s car? Jisung feels dizzy, but if he closes his eyes the tears will fall.

He’s left staring out the window, unseeing, wondering how it all came crashing down so fast.

Jisung doesn’t register when the car stops, or when Minho opens the passenger side door and helps Jisung stand, or when Minho’s unlocking Jisung’s front door.

He only registers when he meets Minho’s eyes, shaky and uncertain.

“You can cry,” Minho says.

Jisung cries.

❀

It’s strange, how easy it is to let down his carefully built walls around Minho.

Ever since Jisung’s aunt was killed two years ago, he’s been closed off. Well. Not ‘closed off,’ per se; his friends can attest to that. He’s always been a very open person, just only about certain things. He doesn’t talk about the past, he doesn’t talk about magic, and he doesn’t cry.

Being a witch is biological, but the only visible indication of not being a normal person is the tears. Witch tears are shiny and silver, easily recognizable, and they have powerful healing properties, ones not found anywhere else in nature.

Witch tears used to be valuable beyond measure. Which meant, in turn, that witches were valuable.

Over time, though, that admiration faded into resentment, and the stigma was great enough that being a witch was something to hide.

Jisung’s aunt taught him everything he needed to know, because his parents couldn’t bear to raise a witch. He doesn’t want to let go of that part of himself, but it’s too dangerous to be open about it. So he puts it into the food he makes, subtle enough that no one notices unless they know. And no one knows.

No one except Minho.

Jisung hasn’t cried in two years. Not for his aunt’s funeral, not for the ending of _How To Train Your Dragon 2_ , not for anything. He can’t allow himself to feel, not like that, not even when he’s alone. He can’t risk getting used to it.

But it’s easy, now. It’s so easy. Minho pulls him forward and holds him tight and Jisung can feel Minho’s chest vibrate—maybe he’s talking? or singing? Jisung doesn’t know. The only thing he knows now is that he’s safe.

Minho’s got him.

Minho is humming when Jisung calms down enough to register his surroundings beyond the slow circles Minho’s hands are tracing through the back of Jisung’s shirt.

The sun’s set by now, and the orange light is streaming in through the sheer white curtains in Jisung’s living room.

When Jisung pulls himself back up, it takes a moment before he can bring himself to meet Minho’s eyes. It’s irrational, maybe, but he’s scared of what he might find in there.

“Oh, Jisungie.” Minho’s voice is gentle as his hand, equally gentle, brushes a wave of Jisung’s hair out of his face and curls around his ear, twirls his earring, cups his jaw.

Minho’s warm enough to chase away the ice, even if it’s just for now. Jisung looks into his eyes, his wonderful shining eyes, and tells him everything.

Jisung thinks, briefly, that maybe he’s just so relieved to share this with someone that anyone would seem like a good listener, but, circumstances aside, Minho is a good listener.

He’s just good, really. Good in general. Capital-G Good. Earnestly, sincerely, wholeheartedly good, and Jisung is so glad to have Minho in his life that it chokes him up.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s okay,” Minho says, reaching forward without hesitation. It only makes Jisung cry harder.

“I just,” Jisung gasps. “I’ve just never ever said this. Any of this. I’ve always kept it to myself, and it was fine most of the time but it gets so suffocating sometimes, y’know, because sometimes I want more than anything just to tell someone but I can’t because it’s so dangerous and I’m so scared, I’ve been so scared ever since my aunt died two years ago.” It all comes out in one breath but Minho’s never had trouble keeping up. “I don’t really—I’m not used to having someone see me cry. Or, really, be involved with anything like this. Normally I deal with it alone.”

“I know it was by accident, Jisungie. I know you didn’t mean for me to know, so—”

“No, no, hyung, that’s not what I was trying to say.” Jisung clutches one of Minho’s hands with both of his, clutches it to his chest. “If I were to choose anyone to share this part of myself with, you would still know.”

Minho doesn’t answer. He doesn’t have to. He reaches forward and holds Jisung’s face, thumbing gently at his cheek. “Your cheeks are glowing.”

“Yeah.” Jisung sniffs, wiping away any remaining tears. “Healing properties, remember? That happens whenever I cry.” Then he laughs, and it’s wet, sure, but it’s genuine. “Felix is gonna be so jealous.”

Minho grins along with him, shining in the glow of Jisung’s tears, and then they’re both laughing until their stomachs hurt. God, it’s not like it’s even that funny, but there’s overwhelming relief clouding the air and it’s leaving them reeling. They’re okay, they’re safe.

When it all dies down, Minho is still looking over at Jisung. His eyes are still lit up with the lingering sunset. And he’s still smiling, so strong even in light of what just happened. He opens his mouth. “I’m glad we met, Jisungie.”

Jisung blinks. Of all the things Minho could’ve said, this wasn’t what Jisung had expected. But he appreciates it, and his mouth curves into a shaky smile as he replies, “Me too, hyung.”

The rest of their evening is normal. Minho suggests staying in. “Why don’t we watch a movie, or something?”

Jisung nods. “Sure! I have a couple DVDs, but I’m sure we can find something on Netflix. Here,” he says, pulling his laptop from where it was resting on the coffee table. “I trust you to find something, lemme go get some blankets, and—” he snaps his fingers. “You need pajamas?”

The rest of their evening is normal, Jisung realizes, aside from two things.

The first is when he returns to the living room, having changed into pajamas himself and carrying the fuzzy blankets from his bedroom and a hoodie and sweatpants for Minho, Minho isn’t scrolling through Netflix, but looking at the loading screen for _Kiki’s Delivery Service_.

“I remember Felix said on the groupchat that you had this one,” Minho admits. The fading sunlight falling across his face turns his cheeks and ears a gentle pink. “It’s your favorite, right?” The fond smile on his face is understanding as Jisung nods.

“Yep! And Kiki’s cat is named Jiji. When I was little, I used to tell everyone to call me Jiji.”

“Hmm. Should I call you Jiji, then?” Minho muses. Jisung flops down beside Minho and rests his head in Minho’s lap, looking up at him.

“You can if you want. I like Jisungie, though,” Jisung says quietly.

Minho smiles like that’s what he wanted to hear, and ruffles Jisung’s hair. “I like Jisungie, too.”

The second is when Jisung remembers what he made earlier and brings it out, and Minho walks back in wearing Jisung’s clothes and his eyes light up when he sees the plates of banana bread on the coffee table.

“You said you put your magic into the food you make, right?” When Jisung nods, Minho continues. “Is there any in here?”

Jisung looks at Minho, just for a moment. He’s curled up on the couch, tucked into a blanket burrito with just his head poking out the top. It’s strangely similar to how Jisung would’ve imagined this whole scene, and the thought makes a lovely warmth spread through Jisung’s body. Minho’s here, he’s still here, and not only is he okay with Jisung being a witch but he wants to know more about it.

Maybe he’s too enthusiastic, telling Minho about how he chose to use the honeysuckle, how he got the petrichor into the honeysuckle nectar, how he put it all together in the end. Maybe he’s too detailed, or too confusing, but Minho nods along and he seems so genuinely interested that Jisung gets emotional all over again.

It’s just so nice to have someone to share all this with.

And, like he said, he’s glad that that someone is Minho.

They eat the banana bread, and Minho keeps asking questions about Jisung’s magic, and Jisung keeps answering. By the time they actually get around to watching _Kiki’s Delivery Service_ , it’s late, and they’re both kinda sleepy. Jisung’s laying more on Minho than he is on the actual couch. Minho doesn’t seem to mind, though, if the way he’s holding Jisung so close to his chest underneath the now-shared blanket burrito is anything to go by.

“Y’know,” Minho begins.

The vibrations of the words in his chest make Jisung giggle. 

“What?” Minho asks, trying to sound offended, even though Jisung’s laughter is contagious. It’s late enough that anything’s enough to set them off.

“Nothing,” Jisung replies innocently, knowing full well Minho won’t believe him.

“I don’t believe you,” Minho says. “But I have a feeling you won’t tell me anyway, so back to what I was originally going to say, which was that …” he trails off. “Wait, gimme a sec.”

Jisung giggles again, and Minho flicks him on the temple.

“Don’t distract me, I’m trying to remember.”

“Oh? I’m distracting, am I?”

“You’re impossible is what you are,” Minho says, his voice honey-sweet. He tugs on Jisung’s earring. “Anyways. I was gonna say that I think you’re really strong, and I admire you for that.” He keeps the nonchalant tone. “And I admire you for using your magic in the way that you do. Like, for positivity, and things like that to make the people you care about happy. And I wanted to make sure you know that you do. Make us happy, I mean. I may not have known it was magic, but whenever I’m with you I feel safe, y’know? Like, protected. Warm. And it’s not just your magic, too; it’s who you are. Witch or not. Being around you is just … it’s really nice.”

Any sarcastic reply Jisung was thinking of when Minho started talking is long gone. Any reply he tries to think of now slips away. He’s suddenly beyond glad that Minho can’t see his face, because he’s never been faced with such sincerity before. And the fact that it’s Minho means that he said it like he’d say anything else; unaffected, lighthearted. As if he had a joke on the tip of his tongue, waiting to follow up.

But Jisung can hear where Minho’s voice gets soft, where it feels more like Minho’s talking to the air than to Jisung himself. The cracks where vulnerability slips through. The fact that it’s Minho means that he said it like he’d say anything else, except this isn’t just anything else and they both know it.

“Jisungie?” Minho’s voice is teasing now. He pinches Jisung’s ear. “Aw,” he coos. “Did I leave you speechless?”

“Hyung, shut up,” Jisung whines. “No one’s ever told me that.”

“Well, you deserve to hear it! I’m just stating the truth.”

“You’re the worst.”

“You love me for it, Jiji.”

Jisung can hear the smile in Minho’s voice. “Well,” he grumbles, trying to mask the fondness bubbling up inside him. He doesn’t do a very good job. “You got me there.”

“Yay,” Minho cheers, so softly Jisung has to shove his face into Minho’s hoodie to hide his silly grin.

“I feel safe with you, too,” Jisung says, much later, when he’s washed his face and Minho’s curled around him. He says it quietly, and the only indication Minho heard him is the arm around his waist shifting so Jisung’s closer—just a bit. Just enough that he knows Minho’s listening.

“It’s weird, ‘cause I never really thought about it. But Felix kept commenting on it, and then Channie, and I kinda realized ‘Huh, Minho-hyung and I are really close.’ We just,” Jisung pauses, playing with Minho’s fingers where they’re splayed out on Jisung’s stomach, “fit together well, I think. You put me at ease without even doing anything except being there. Like my mind knows that we’re supposed to be side by side.”

“You saying I’m your soulmate, Han Jisungie?”

“Well, I’m certainly not saying that Choi Minho is.”

“Don’t get an attitude with me, Jiji.” Jisung can hear the pout in Minho’s voice. “I‘m your soulmate, remember?”

“Well then, soulmate, since you love me dearly,” Jisung starts. Minho snorts, but doesn’t stop him. “Can you sing that song you were humming earlier? It was pretty.”

“Oh, _Lavender’s Blue_? You want me to sing you a lullaby?” He’s teasing, but it’s not mean.

“Yep.”

Minho kisses the top of Jisung’s ear. “Only ‘cause I love you dearly.”

_Lavender’s blue, dilly dilly, lavender’s green. When I am king, dilly dilly, you shall be queen._

_Who told you so, dilly dilly, who told you so? T’was my own heart, dilly dilly, that told me so._

_Lavender’s green, dilly dilly, lavender’s blue. If you love me, dilly dilly, I will love you._

_Let the birds sing, dilly dilly, and the lambs play. We shall be safe, dilly dilly, out of harm’s way._

Minho’s voice is clear and beautiful like the sparkling night. It’s comforting like magic.

It embraces him like Minho’s doing now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [baby playlist:](https://music.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL2EJG-r4L00KfabGMFwr9d8gfoKdyML0C)  
> Secret — TAEYEON  
> TALK ME DOWN — Troye Sivan  
> Wild Heart — Bleachers  
> Surrender — WALK THE MOON  
> Collar Full — Panic! At The Disco  
> Dream — Bishop Briggs  
> Dust — Broods  
> Eastside (Acoustic) — benny blanco ft. Halsey & Khalid  
> Golden — Harry Styles  
> Robbers — The 1975  
> Out Of My Mind — Day6  
> get well soon — Ariana Grande  
> Trade Mistakes — Panic! At The Disco  
> The Heart Never Lies — McFly  
> Gravity — TAEYEON  
> Remedy — Adele  
> Without You — NCT U  
> Hometown — twenty one pilots  
> Vanilla — TAEYEON  
> You — Day6  
> Mixtape #2 — Stray Kids  
> EASE — Troye Sivan ft. Broods  
> Sun & Moon — NCT 127  
> Blue — TAEYEON  
> Please Be Naked — The 1975  
> Can’t Take My Eyes Off You — Lady Antebellum  
> When You Love Someone — Day6  
> Hate to See Your Heart Break — Paramore  
> Fine Line — Harry Styles
> 
> thanks again for reading my darlings !! leave a comment if u wanna make me cry from love <3


	4. where you stand, it is warm enough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello my darlings !!!!!!! final chapter !!!!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> im excited for yall to read this so here ya go !!!!!
> 
> playlist + a sappy see you later in the end notes <3

Jaggery for warmth: morning glory muffins

2 c flour

1 c brown sugar

2 tsp baking soda

2 tsp cinnamon

½ tsp ginger

½ tsp salt

2 c peeled and grated carrots

1 large tart apple, peeled, cored, and grated

½ c shredded coconut

½ c chopped walnuts

⅓ c sunflower seeds or wheat germ

3 eggs

⅔ c vegetable oil

2 tsp vanilla

¼ c orange juice

4 oz jaggery

To prepare jaggery:

Cut or break jaggery into small pieces.

Melanie’s climbing over his leg again. Jisung puts down his pencil to scratch between her ears, a much more important task than writing out recipes. She lays out across his thigh, purring loudly enough to be heard even over the racket Minho’s making in the kitchen.

“What are you even doing in there?” Jisung calls.

“Nothing you need to be concerned about,” Minho yells back, and, well. That’s not exactly reassuring. Jisung has half a mind to go in there in case he has to save a life, but he’s distracted by Tara’s entrance into the living room.

He clicks his tongue and reaches out for her with his free hand, and she pads over to him.

“Hey, darling,” he coos. She headbutts his hand, and he laughs. “You tired like your sister?”

Tara meows. Then she clambers up onto Jisung’s other leg and curls up, falling asleep just like Melanie. Jisung’s heart is going to explode.

He was working on his cookbook; Minho’s kotatsu is now his preferred place for doing any and all work. Jisung probably uses it more than Minho at this point, and, of course, there is the added bonus of Tara and Melanie always hanging around. They like to take naps underneath it.

“How come my cats love you more than me?” Minho whines. When Jisung looks up at him, he’s leaning against the doorway of the living room, a spatula dangling from one hand.

Jisung shrugs. “Maybe if you were a witch, they’d love you, too.”

He breaks out into a grin when Minho squawks in protest.

Someone’s knocking on the door.

“Would you mind getting that for me?” Minho calls, so Jisung reluctantly slides his legs out from under the kotatsu and trots over to the door, rifling through Minho’s bag for the keys to unlock it.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Felix says. It sounds like an inside joke, but not one with Jisung. Jisung blinks, then holds out his arms just in time for Felix to catapult himself into them.

They walk into the kitchen with their arms linked up and their legs marching in sync.

“Good evening, my good sir,” is the way Felix chooses to announce his arrival. He folds himself into a ridiculous bow, dragging Jisung down with him by their linked arms. “How do you do?”

“Why, simply wonderful!” Minho replies, trying to match the low tone of Felix’s voice. He ends up coughing instead. Felix snorts at that. “We chilling,” Minho reiterates in his normal voice.

“You just here for the cats, or are you staying for dinner?” Jisung asks.

“I was just here for the cats,” Felix admits. “But word on the street is that you’ve made pajeon for our Hannie here.” He reaches over and squishes Jisung’s cheeks in the palm of his tiny hand. “And I, merely a poor starving boy, wouldn’t object to some of Minho-hyung’s famous pajeon.”

Minho raises an eyebrow, amusement tugging up the corners of his mouth. “Is that so.”

Felix flashes a winning smile, poking his fingers into his cheeks and batting his eyes for Maximum Impact.

Minho turns to Jisung. “Pajeon sound good, Jiji?”

Jisung catches Felix making a pleading gesture with his hands. “Well now that you mention pajeon, I really do want some. But you’re already making something.”

“No, no.” Minho waves his hand. “Don’t worry about it, we can have that tomorrow.”

“Really?”

Minho’s eyes shine with his smile. “Really really. Now you better go play with the cats; I can practically hear them pining for attention.”

Felix certainly doesn’t need to be told twice.

“You’re an angel, Han Jisung.” Felix is nearly sobbing. “I thought I’d never get to try hyung’s pajeon.” He flings himself back onto the floor with a thump that’s muffled against the carpet. “It seemed a dream so far away,” he sighs, delicately laying the back of his hand against his forehead.

Jisung closes his eyes, hearing in the spot of silence the piano music that Minho normally has playing. It’s soft in a muted way that Jisung thinks suits Minho.

Apparently Felix noticed it too. “Hey, hyung?” he calls, and Minho pokes his head in after a moment.

“Hm?”

“Am I hallucinating or do you have music playing?”

Minho giggles, eyes shining. “I have music on.”

“It’s so quiet,” Felix remarks. “Why does it sound muffled? Is it playing in another room?”

“Yeah, it’s playing in the closet.”

Jisung raises his head at that. “Really? All this time I just thought it was on really low volume, or something. Why is it playing in the closet?”

Minho shrugs. “I think it sounds better through a wall.” Then something beeps in the kitchen and he ducks back out.

“Oh,” Felix says. “Like those videos on YouTube that’re like ‘ _Somehow_ by Day6 but you’re in the bathroom at a party.’”

Jisung lays back down. “It’s nice.” Tara pops up and sniffs at his chin. He smiles at her and reaches out a finger for her to inspect before he pets her tiny little forehead, right between her eyes.

“Hey there.” Felix is using his ridiculous aegyo voice, and Jisung snorts. He must have Melanie with him. “How are you today? You’re doing well? Ah, me too. Anything going on. Oh, really? Aw, you cutie, are you too shy? Well, if you really want me to … you have to do it yourself next time, though. Got it?” He sounds honestly stern, as if he’s talking to his daughter rather than his friend’s cat. “Sungie?”

“Hm?”

“Melanie would like me to tell you that she likes when you kiss her head,” Felix relays solemnly. “And that she loves you very much.”

“Well, would you tell her that I love her even more?”

“Aight,” Felix says, before reverting back to the aegyo voice. “Sungie says he loves you even more. Yes, those were his exact words. Oh, so now you don’t trust me? Is it ‘cause I’m not good at Korean?” Melanie meows very loudly at this, like she’s disagreeing, and Jisung has to laugh. “Aw, baby, it’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it like that.”

Jisung’s phone lights up with the notification from Felix’s text and he taps on it, snorting when he sees the pictures, then pushing his phone across the table towards Minho so he can see them too.

_Dreme teme (4)_

_lix_ **_♡_ **

_[picture]_

_[picture]_

_[picture]_

_MINHO HYUNG MADE PAJEON_

_I’M SO HAPPY I COULD CRY_

“Glad to see you’re enjoying it, Felix,” Minho comments amusedly, and Felix flashes him a thumbs-up, deeming it safer than trying to speak with his mouth so full.

_channie_

_Am i the only one whos never had minhos pajeon then???????/_

_U N A C C E P T A B L E_

_C O N D I T I O N S_

_Im AFFRONTED_

_lix_ **_♡_ **

_Sucks to be you i guess_

_channie_

_Felix im wounded ……….._

_Ive been your friend since the day yo uwere born …..._

_lix_ **_♡_ **

_That sounds like your personal problem_

Jisung feels Minho laugh before he hears it; Minho’s shoulders start shaking, and then the laugh bubbles up.

Felix gives his best attempt at a bow sitting down, offering a royal wave for good measure. “Thank you, thank you. I am rather genius when it comes to matters of roasting my friends.”

He gets a standing ovation from Jisung and Minho, and a tail to the face from Melanie.

“Ever since Seungminnie pointed out that you eat like a squirrel, I haven’t been able to stop seeing it.”

Jisung groans, covering up his face with his hands. “Hyung,” he whines, looking up at Chan. The fact that he says it through the mouthful of food he has stored in his cheeks probably doesn’t help his case.

“Don’t worry,” Chan replies matter-of-factly. “It’s cute. Right, Minho?”

Minho looks up from his third cup of coffee with wide eyes. “Huh?” All his hair is tucked up into a beanie, despite the hot weather. It’s his cat beanie, the one he was wearing the first day Jisung met him.

“Jisung’s cute,” Chan chimes. “Right?” Jisung is about to argue that’s not really what they were saying, but Minho beats him to it.

“Of course he is,” he says, and then he turns to Jisung, prodding at Jisung’s ankle under the table with his foot. “Of course you are.” Then he goes back to swirling his coffee around in its mug, and the conversation, thankfully, moves on, with Felix talking about these two girls who came into the chocolate shop he works at and kept trying to buy the receipt printer.

Chan reaches over and takes a strawberry off the top of Jisung’s stack of pancakes. Jisung pouts, mourning the loss, but Chan holds his fork in front of Jisung, piled with hash browns, and he is easily forgiven.

Jisung tunes back into the conversation in time to catch the tail end of what Minho’s saying to Felix.

“... always a good time.”

“What’s always a good time?” Chan asks before Jisung can.

“My studio’s anniversary celebration.” Minho grins. “Every year, we throw this huge fancy party as an excuse to dress up, dance around, and eat our weight in expensive food.”

Jisung rests his chin in his palm and sighs. “Sounds like a dream.”

“Oh, it definitely is,” Chan comments. “I forced him to bring me last year. What day is it this year?”

“Uh, it’s in, like, a couple weeks?” Minho digs in his pocket for his phone and taps around. “Yeah. The twentieth. Anyone free and up for eating the best roast duck you’ll ever have?”

“As great as that sounds, I’m swamped that week.” Chan stuffs another one of Jisung’s strawberries in his mouth before continuing. “My manager’s gonna be away at a conference in New York, so we all have to step up a bit.”

“Don’t think I could make it either, hyung,” Felix adds. “I have some … summer assignments that I need to start. For a class I’m registering for, y’know? In the fall.”

Minho hums thoughtfully, shooting the two of them a look that’s too brief for Jisung to decipher before turning to Jisung.

“What about you, Jisungie?”

Jisung pulls out his phone and looks at Google Calendar. The twentieth is clear. “I’m only free if there’s gonna be cheesecake.”

“Then find yourself a suit, baby, ‘cause they have the best cheesecake.”

“The best?” Jisung raises an eyebrow. “We’ll see.”

Minho’s answering smirk splits into a smile that makes his eyes shine. 

“I can feel myself turning to jelly,” Chan says.

“That’s the whole point, hyung.”

“Yeah,” Felix chimes. “Rest and relaxation may be a foreign concept to you, but Hannie and I are experts.” He and Jisung fist bump.

Every so often, Felix and Jisung’s self-care sleepovers will coincide with a night where Chan is home. Chan is indulgent enough to not put up a fight when Felix takes one arm and Jisung takes the other and they drag him into the bathroom.

Chan hums along to _Wolves_ and Jisung smooths down the edges of his sheet mask and Felix moves his arms and legs around like he’s making a snow angel, except it’s on top of Chan’s comforter that they spread out on the living room floor instead of snow. A comforter angel.

“D’you guys have any Lucky Charms?” Jisung asks. When Felix snorts, he whines defensively, “What? Can’t a guy crave Lucky Charms?”

“No, ‘m not laughing at you, Hannie—well, I kind of am, actually.” When Jisung throws a pillow at Felix’s legs he laughs again. “No, you reminded me that we don’t have Lucky Charms, but we do have Marshmallow Treasures.”

“The hell are those?”

“Store-brand Lucky Charms,” Felix snickers. “Chan said ‘It’s no use paying extra for a brand name when these are just as good.’ He’s like a sitcom dad, I swear.”

“I’m right here,” Chan says, sounding much too sleepy to be anywhere near stern.

Jisung sits up slowly and shuffles to the kitchen to pour himself a bowl of Marshmallow Treasures, brand names be damned. As he shuffles back, he pops a handful in his mouth and sighs.

“Ah, the sweet taste of saving money.”

“You’re gonna mess up your mask.”

Jisung shrugs. “There’s only, like, two minutes left anyway.”

“You’re a heathen.”

Jisung just eats more cereal.

“You’re eating it dry? With your hands?” Felix sounds like he’s about to cry. “You really are a heathen.”

Jisung blinks at him, just to show the extent of his indifference. Chan snorts.

“You look like Minho when you blink like that.”

Jisung leans down and presses another kiss onto the top of a sleeping Melanie’s head.

Hyunjin groans. “Stop looking all cute and innocent. It’s gonna make beating you so hard.”

Jisung raises an eyebrow as Hyunjin hands him the dice. “Who says you’re gonna beat me?”

He confidently rolls the dice again, and watches as they settle. Two sixes.

Minho clicks his tongue. “One more double and—”

“—and I’m going to jail, yeah, yeah, I know.” Jisung moves the thimble. “Nine, ten, eleven ....” He lands on one of Hyunjin’s properties with a resigned “Twelve.”

Hyunjin cackles. “Eight hundred!”

Jisung sighs. He gives Hyunjin the money, and kisses Melanie again. “Wish me luck, darling.”

Hyunjin points a finger at him. “You stop that right now. I couldn’t watch you go to jail being so cute.”

Jisung sticks his tongue out. “You won’t have to. You’ll listen to my victory song when this game’s over, mark my words!”

Snake eyes.

Jisung puts the thimble in jail. Minho pats him on the shoulder.

“It’s okay, Jisungie. I still love you.”

Hyunjin snorts. “Yeah. We know.”

“You know what—”

Melanie meows, effectively stopping all conversation. Jisung grins, wide enough to make his cheeks hurt, and scoops her up, holding her up to eye level.

“Did you have a good nap, sweetheart?” he asks. She doesn’t reply beyond a gentle flick of her ears. Jisung smiles and curls her up against his chest like a baby.

When he looks up, both Minho and Hyunjin are visibly melting.

“Hyung, d’you wanna get your phone? We need these pictures for the wedding video.”

“What’s wrong with yours?” Minho asks, gesturing to Jisung’s phone on the kotatsu in front of them and promptly ignoring Hyunjin’s giggling.

“I forgot my charger.”

“Oh, I have one,” Minho says, already standing up.

“No, hyung, we don’t use the same charger, remember, I have the old—and he’s gone.” Jisung turns to Hyunjin, who’s reaching across to pick up Jisung’s phone.

“You still have the 4S? Man, you could make big money for this on eBay. It’s an antique.”

“Hey!” Jisung pouts. “It works just fine, thank you very much.”

Whatever Hyunjin was going to say—probably more slander about Jisung’s phone—is cut off when Minho comes back. He snatches Jisung’s phone from Hyunjin and plugs it into the wall.

“I didn’t think you used anything with the old Apple charger,” Jisung comments as Minho sits back down.

“I don’t. You’re over here enough that I figured it’d be nice to have one.”

“Oh.” Jisung doesn’t quite know what else to say.

Hyunjin does. “Did you have to go eBay hunting for that? I bet it was expensive. It was probably marked under ‘antique.’”

Jisung throws a die at him.

There’s a cute glass jar on Jisung’s countertop when he gets home. Though Jisung has many cute glass jars, he’s fairly sure this one isn’t his.

It feels warm, though—whatever’s inside. It feels warm and good, which means it’s probably not poison.

_Dreme teme (4)_

_Jisung_

_[picture]_

_anyone know what this is~?_

_i just came home and it? was?? here??? lol_

_channie_

_._

_minho hyung_

_chan hyung .. hush_

_yh jisung sorry for the scare_

_its jaggery i saw it yesterday and thought it was cool and that u might like it_

_sorry i forgot to write a note i asked hyung to drop it off for me_

_Jisung_

_omg no worries hyung :D_

_thank you for thinking of me~_

_but why did you ask chan hyung to drop it off?_

_minho hyung_

_he has everyones spare keys_

_also ive been busy at the studio lately_

_lix_ **_♡_ **

_RIP Minho hyung_

_He will be missed_

_Press F to pay respects_

_h_

_  
_ _Jisung_

_f_

_channie_

_g_

_minho hyung_

_wow suddenly i only know jisung_

_lix_ **_♡_ **

_‘Suddenly’_

Jisung shuts off his phone, and looks back up at the jar of—what did Minho call it? Jaggery? Jisung has no clue what that is. It smells nice, though; sweet and heavy and dark.

He feels kind of like he’s on _Chopped_ , but this he knows what to do with. Well, somewhat. It’s for warmth, he knows that much. The rest he can figure out later.

“You haven’t seen _Stranger Things_?” Minho asks, horrified.

“No! Felix watched part of the first episode and told me it was really scary!”

“Oh, Jisungie,” Minho sighs, running a hand through his hair. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Accept me the way I am?” Jisung asks, cupping his face like a flower and batting his eyes.

“No, that’s not it….” Minho ignores Jisung’s pouty face and snaps his fingers. “I know! We’ll watch _Stranger Things_!”

“Hyung,” Jisung whines. “I don’t like scary things.”

“This isn’t scary things! It’s _Stranger Things_!”

“I hate you.”

“C’mon, Jisungie. I really think you’d like it. Our taste in, like, everything is the exact same! Trust me on this.”

Minho must see that he’s cracking, because he presses harder.

“I have fruit leather and those weird crunchy potato-lentil things literally no one in the world other than you likes. Plus,” he adds, leaning down and scooping Tara up off the floor, “you don’t want Tara to be sad, do you?”

“Hey,” Jisung starts, “no emotional manipulation, that’s not fair—”

“She loves you.” Minho holds her up and puts her face right next to his own. God, he’s pulling out the puppy-dog eyes. “We both do.”

Well, what is there to do other than give Minho everything he wants?

Jisung sighs, trying his very best to look disgruntled. “Fine, whatever.”

“Yay!” Minho cheers, kissing Tara on the head, and it’s so cute that Jisung smiles along without even realizing it.

“Jisungie,” Minho mumbles. His finger’s prodding at Jisung’s cheek.

“What.”

“Go wash your face before we both fall asleep.”

“Hmm … nope,” Jisung murmurs. He’s basically sprawled out on top of Minho, having clung to him during every scary part and not found the motivation to let go. “Don’t wanna. ‘S too scary.”

“Aw, baby,” Minho giggles. “I won’t let anything hurt you. Promise.”

When Jisung still doesn’t move, Minho taps his wrist. “C’mon, let’s get you up.”

“I can’t believe you forced me to watch the entire first season,” Jisung says as Minho half-carries him into the bathroom.

Minho scoffs. “As if you weren’t begging to continue after the first episode. It’s a good thing it’s the weekend; your coworkers would’ve accused me of replacing you with a zombie.”

“I wouldn’t be a zombie!” Jisung protests, and just to prove his point he yawns right after. “I’m wide awake, see?”

Minho chuckles, flicking on the bathroom lights. “Sure you are, sweetheart.” He motions for Jisung to come closer, and when Jisung obliges he slides the hair tie off Jisung’s wrist and ties Jisung’s bangs up for him.

Jisung gives him a sleepy smile. “You know,” he starts matter-of-factly, opening the cupboard and reaching for the cleanser. He’s too tired to take his shirt off; he can deal with a little bit of water. “I normally listen to music when I’m washing my face.”

“Is that so.”

“Yep! But I thought maybe you could sing for me this time?” Jisung’s voice loses some of its confident edge before he grins again, bright and easy. “Since you love me dearly.”

“I never should’ve told you that,” Minho sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’ve got too much power.”

He sings anyway. _Blue_. Jisung sways along with the gentle flow of his voice.

The warmth of Minho’s touch cradles Jisung’s head as he falls asleep. He hears Minho’s voice again, streaming through the clouds like patched sunlight, blowing through him like wind. It might be in his dream.

To prepare muffins:

Whisk together flour, sugar, baking soda, spices, and salt. Stir in the carrots, apple, coconut, nuts, and wheat germ.

“Throwing a feast?” Jihyo asks, watching Jisung pile apples and carrots into his bag.

Jisung grins. “Something like that.”

It’s not quite as hot out today, so the market’s busy. Jisung’s got the sleeves of his button-down rolled up. He’s finally decided on something to make with the jaggery.

He hands over a ten even though his total was only six and backs away before Jihyo can protest.

“Have a good weekend,” comes her resigned call, and he turns around to wave at her with both hands before continuing on his way.

When Jisung gets home, everything’s still around him. The kitchen is drenched in the afternoon sunlight. The thump his bag makes when he plonks it down on the counter is loud in the silence.

He opens the windows and shuffles the piano playlist from Minho’s Spotify before getting out all the ingredients, swaying along to the familiar song.

In a separate bowl, beat together eggs, oil, vanilla, and orange juice. Combine mixtures and stir until evenly mixed. Fill each well of prepared pan almost to the top—the batter should fill up twelve.

Jisung screws open the jar of jaggery. It smells nice. Sweet. He cuts it up into small pieces before scooping it into a saucepan.

Heat jaggery on stovetop on medium-low heat, stirring constantly until completely liquified and smooth. It smells sweet, Jisung thinks, and heavier than it did before now that it’s melting. It’ll do well with the magic he wants.

He takes a spoon and drizzles some on the top of each muffin.

Bake at 375 for twenty-five minutes or until a knife inserted comes out clean.

Jisung was planning to get some more work done after cleaning up, but he ends up on his phone, scrolling through his, Minho’s, and Hyunjin’s shared album of pictures of the cats. Oh, well. That’s more important, anyway.

There’s some R&B song coming to a close when Jisung opens the door to the studio. It’s quite pretty, playing through the wall.

He walks down the hallway to Minho’s room. The door’s open, and he can see Minho through the mirror, hair ruffled like he’s been running his hands through it and shoulders tense.

“A bit more forceful on that landing, Yeji,” he says, eyebrows furrowed. “Divide your weight between your legs so it’s even.” The girl in the center nods. It makes her ponytail swing around.

Minho claps his hands. “And there was one more thing I wanted to work on …” he trails off, then looks up and meets Jisung’s eyes. He grins, bright and full, before continuing. “But we can do that after we take a break, okay?” Then he’s walking over to where Jisung’s standing. “Hey!”

“Hey, hyung,” Jisung says. He holds the tin he’s carrying out towards Minho. “I made you muffins!”

“Oh, really?” Minho’s eyes shine. “I knew there was a reason you’re my favorite.”

Jisung waves his hand. “Oh, stop it, you,” he giggles. Minho opens the container and picks up one of the muffins. “They’re morning glory muffins. There’s a lot of good stuff in ‘em, ‘cause I know you’ve been working hard.”

“Is there magic in there, too?” Minho asks, his voice quieter.

Jisung nods. “Yeah! I used the jaggery you gave me! Thank you for that, by the way, I know I said it in the groupchat earlier but I wanted to thank you in person. I melted some down and mixed it in with the batter.”

Minho beams. “What’s it for?”

“You tell me,” Jisung counters, so Minho breaks a piece off the top of a muffin and pops it in his mouth. “What do you feel?”

Minho shivers a bit, then smiles softly. “Just … really warm. Like—ah, what does it feel like? Like I just wrapped myself up in a blanket, or someone just gave me a really big hug.”

“Yay!” Jisung cheers, taking a little piece for himself. “Perfect, that’s exactly what I wanted.”

“Is it okay if I give some to the students? They’ve been working hard, too.”

“Of course, hyung. That’s very thoughtful of you.”

Minho reaches forward and cups Jisung’s cheek. “It was very thoughtful of you to make these!” Then he drops his hand and steps up into the room again, walking over to place the tin next to the sound system. “Jisungie made some wonderful muffins, so you guys help yourselves, okay?”

There’s a chorus of ‘Thank you’s trailing behind Minho as he walks back over to Jisung.

“You up for coming over tonight? We still have two whole seasons of _Stranger Things_ to watch, and I have three cats that need cuddling.”

Jisung raises an eyebrow. “Three?”

Minho nods, the corners of his mouth lifting up. “Yes. The third … is me!” He grins widely, and pokes his fingers into his cheeks.

Jisung giggles. “Well, in that case, how can I refuse?”

“You can’t. That’s the whole point, silly!” He twists around to look at the clock on the wall. “Anyways, I don’t know when we’ll finish here so I’ll come pick you up.”

“M’kay,” Jisung says, dragging it out. “Hey.” He flicks Minho on the shoulder. It’s light, but Minho recoils anyway, whining like Jisung stabbed him. “Don’t work too hard, okay? I need someone to protect me from that demogorgon.” When all Minho does is nod unconvincingly, Jisung flicks him again.

“Hey! Is that any way to treat your knight in shining armor?” Minho asks, pouting and clutching his shoulder.

“Can’t be my knight in shining armor if you’re dead tired.”

Minho shoots him a toothy smile. “As if anything could prevent me from protecting you.”

Jisung rolls his eyes, then slings his arms around Minho, hooking his chin over Minho’s shoulder. “You’re so lame. I love you.” He pulls back after a moment and looks up at Minho. His hair is still messy and his cheeks are rosy and his eyes are shining. Jisung reaches up and carefully fixes Minho’s hair. “Okay. I’ll see you later, then?”

“Yep.”

Jisung turns around and starts back down the hallway.

“Bye, Jisungie,” Minho says. It’s quiet, but Jisung can hear the smile in his voice; and sure enough, when he turns around, Minho’s grinning at him.

He grins back. “Bye hyung!”

Laughter sounds from inside the studio before Jisung closes the door and heads back home.

_minho hyung_

_minho hyung_

_ill be there around 10:27_

_Jisung_

_see you then~!!_

Minho knocks on the door at 10:31.

“Four minutes late, hyung,” Jisung says as he swings the door open.

Minho shrugs. “It was just an estimate.” He leans against the doorframe, crossing one ankle over the other. “Ready to scream your heart out?”

Jisung narrows his eyes at Minho. “Hey, I didn’t scream that much—”

“You did, actually. I was there.”

“So was I.”

Minho cracks first, eyes crinkling up. “Agree to disagree. Got everything you need?”

Jisung checks his bag. “Yep, think so.”

“Hyung?”

Minho reaches over to turn down the volume. “Hm?”

“We should stop at the convenience store.”

“And why is that?”

“I’m craving sour gummy worms.”

Minho snaps his fingers. “I knew that. Because of my Jisung sense.”

“Oh, you knew, huh?” Jisung leans back in his seat and crosses his arms. “Prove it.”

“Prove I didn’t.”

“I was lying to you! I’m really craving … a KitKat.”

“No you’re not.”

“No,” Jisung sighs, slumping against the window in defeat. “I’m not.”

“My Jisung sense prevails yet again.”

“You know me too well.”

Minho sets two bottles down with a clink before he picks Jisung’s legs up off the couch and sits down where they were sprawled out, resting Jisung’s feet on his lap instead. He hands one of the bottles to Jisung.

“Beer?” Jisung asks, making a face.

“I know you don’t like beer, but you’ll like this. Trust me.” At Jisung’s unchanged expression, he continues. “It’s made with sour cherries.” When Jisung lifts it to his mouth and throws Minho a suspicious glare, Minho giggles, running a hand through his hair and raising his own bottle. “You don’t have to drink it if you don’t like it.”

Jisung takes a tentative sip. “Oh!” he says. “It’s good!”

“Yeah.” Minho nods. “It doesn’t taste like beer at all.”

“Which is why I like it.”

Minho grins. “I thought you might.”

Melanie leaps up onto the couch with them when she hears Jisung opening the package of gummy worms. Minho scoops her up easily.

“No, not for you, lovebug,” he says, scratching her head. “That’ll make you sick.”

Jisung buries his face in Minho’s shoulder. Again. He’s never been a fan of gore.

“Okay,” Minho says, after a couple moments of tense music and sounds Jisung would rather not think about. “You can watch now.”

“This season’s a lot scarier than the first one,” Jisung whines. Minho laughs, and squeezes Jisung’s shoulder.

“Yeah, well. That’s _Stranger Things_ for you.” He pops another gummy worm into his mouth. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”

Jisung rests his head back on Minho’s shoulder where he can see the screen again. “I know.”

The twentieth arrives, and with it a bright gray morning.

_minho hyung_

_minho hyung_

_it starts at 630 so ill pick u up at 530_

_is that ok_

_Jisung_

_sounds great !!!!!_

_see you then ~~_

Jisung stays in bed for longer than usual, catching up on JennaMarbles videos and enjoying the cocoon of warmth he’s built.

It’s not even ten minutes after he’s gotten himself up that there’s a knock on his front door. When he opens up, Chan and Felix are there.

Jisung raises an eyebrow, but steps back to let them in all the same. “Weren’t … weren’t both of you busy today?”

They shrug in sync, which—okay, yeah, that’s a little off-putting.

“My manager’s conference was rescheduled,” Chan says at the exact moment Felix says, “I finished my homework.”

Suspicious, but Jisung doesn’t mind having an excuse to hang out with them. “Here, I made soda bread yesterday. The pan’s in the microwave, help yourselves. ‘M gonna go wash my face.”

They end up watching _Big Hero 6_. Jisung hides his face in Chan’s shoulder to keep himself from crying—God, he should’ve thought more about this, really—but it’s okay. He’s had lots of practice, and besides, Felix’s got his face smushed into a pillow.

When then credits scene finishes and the last of the music fades out, Felix turns to Chan.

“Is it time?”

“Time for what?” Jisung mumbles, brushing his hair out of his eyes and slapping his cheeks a couple times to wake himself up.

“It’s time,” Chan says.

“Time for what?” Jisung asks again.

“It is indeed.”

Jisung doesn’t bother asking a third time, only turns to Felix and waits for an explanation. And it comes, when Felix claps his little hands together and leaps up off the couch. He comes back a moment later carrying his backpack. “Let’s get you ready, Hannie!”

“Ready for what?”

“Minho’s event, silly! You didn’t forget, right?”

“It’s not … it’s not for a couple hours, though? Why would I start getting ready now?”

Chan grins, and slings an arm around Jisung’s shoulders. “Reasons.”

And now they’re all in Jisung’s bedroom. Chan is paging through the clothes in Jisung’s closet, and Felix is nodding or shaking his head at each thing he brings out. Jisung looks at the pile of ‘yes’ clothes accumulating on his bed and sighs, resigned to the fact that he has no say in this.

“God damn, Jisung,” Chan says. “How many white button-downs do you have?”

“Nearly enough,” Jisung answers, turning on his phone just to unlock it and turn it back off.

He’s beginning to see why he’s getting ready four hours early when Chan finally puts the last hanger down—he’ll be lucky if they’re even done by the time Minho arrives.

“Okay, okay. First outfit.”

A bundle of clothing is pressed into Jisung’s arms and he is shoved into the bathroom.

It’s a lavender button-down and darker purple pants. He walks out of the bathroom and flings himself against the doorframe of his bedroom, the thud of his arms on the wall as he strikes a pose alerting the others to his presence.

“Hmm …”

“Don’t know if I’m feeling all the purple,” Felix says, eyes narrowed.

“Yeah, maybe not for tonight.” Chan muses. “Tonight won’t be a purple night.”

“What does that even mean?” Jisung wonders, but the only response he gets is another outfit being thrown in his direction.

They end up deciding on Outfit Number Five: his yellow turtleneck and black-and-white dress pants.

“Cool!” Jisung exclaims once he’s finished tucking in the sweater. “I like this one a lot.”

“It looks great on you, Ji!”

“Are we all done, then?”

“Oh, Hannie,” Felix grins. It looks oddly sinister. “We’re not even close.”

Chan gets up to answer the door when Minho knocks.

“Stay still, and keep your eyes closed,” Felix whines, holding Jisung’s chin up. “This one’s glittery, so it’s harder to put on than the regular eyeliner was.”

A breeze floats by, and there’s the sound of footsteps, and then Jisung feels Chan comb through his hair, ruffling it a bit at the top.

“Okay, look at me?” Jisung obliges, and Felix grins. “Perfect!” He scrambles away, and before Jisung can even register it his spot is being taken.

Chan’s holding a velvet box.

“Aw, Channie-hyung, that’s not necessary! If you wanted to propose, all you need to do to steal my heart is get me sunflowers.”

“Is that so?” Chan asks. He looks awfully smug at that, but Jisung doesn’t have time to wonder why because as Chan opens the box the smirk on his face is replaced with genuine excitement.

It’s an earring, a gold one, and it’s this lovely delicate chain that leaves Jisung a little in awe as it twinkles up at him.

“It’s so pretty,” he breathes, eyes wide.

“Isn’t it?” Chan says, reaching forward and carefully taking out the earring Jisung had in. “Felix and I saw it when we were running errands and agreed it was made for you.” He puts in the new one, and Jisung moves his head back and forth, letting it swing around.

“I love it! Thank you, hyung.”

Felix stops him one more time before Jisung finally makes his way back out of his bedroom.

“Can’t believe you almost forgot lip gloss,” he huffs, shaking his head as he unscrews the tube. “How could you?”

“Oh, you match!" Chan exclaims, and Jisung is about to ask with what, because Minho's not wearing yellow, when Minho holds out something towards him.

It's a bundle of sunflowers.

Jisung just looks at Minho for a second, because he's clutching the stems with both hands and there's a shy little smile curving across his mouth and there's that light again, right there in his eyes.

He doesn't plan to smile half as big as he does, but when he takes the flowers and holds them to his chest he can feel his cheeks start to ache.

“You do match,” Minho says.

“Because, like the flowers, I am beautiful?” Jisung bats his eyes.

Minho rolls his. “I meant you’re both wearing yellow, but yeah. That too.”

After finding a vase to put the flowers in and making sure the others are all set—“Stay however long you want, just lock up when you’re leaving.”—Minho links his arm with Jisung’s and leads him out, closing the door behind them.

The drive seems shorter than it is, with Minho tapping out the beat of _Sweet Chaos_ on the steering wheel and Jisung providing updates on the shapes of every cloud that catches his eye.

"How can a cloud even look like a glass of watermelon juice?"

"If you could see it, you'd understand! It's just got … summer energy, y'know? Like hot-sticky-cool."

"That actually made it make less sense," Minho says, and it sounds matter-of-fact but Jisung sees the expression on his face.

"It did not!" he protests. "You absolutely know what I'm talking about, don't lie."

"I'm not lying." Minho's full-on grinning now, shining in the late summer sunset. "Nothing you say makes sense."

"You understand everything about me!" Jisung says triumphantly.

"That I do."

"And if you saw that cloud, you'd agree that it looks like a glass of watermelon juice."

"That I doubt."

Jisung pouts for all of two and a half seconds, before—"Oh, look! That one looks like Melanie's octopus toy."

Jisung finally straightens up, still clutching his stomach. Thank God he doesn’t cry-laugh like Changbin does, he thinks. Felix worked so hard on his eyeliner.

“And then—get this—he just stood there!” Dahyun gasps. “Couldn’t look me in the eye for two weeks.”

Jisung spots Minho walking back over and can’t help but dissolve into giggles all over again, Dahyun not too far behind.

“Why do I get the feeling you were talking about me.”

“Because we were?”

Minho narrows his eyes at Dahyun for that, but sits down beside Jisung anyway, setting down one of the plates he was carrying in front of him.

“Thank you,” Jisung beams.

Dahyun continues with her Top Ten Most Iconic Minho Moments as Jisung eats the best roast duck he’s ever had. The stories are even better with the addition of Minho’s reddening face and his “That was not how it happened and you know it”s.

“More like Top Ten Anime Betrayals,” Minho grumbles as Dahyun finishes up her story of the time Minho accidentally stole his neighbor’s cat and kept her in the studio for two weeks.

“Aw, don’t pout, my love,” Jisung coos, patting Minho’s knee. “I still love you, even if you are a cat thief.”

Dahyun looks up at Minho and laughs.

"You still wanna try that cheesecake?"

Jisung whips his head up to look at Minho.

"What?" Minho asks, taking in Jisung's horrified expression.

"I forgot," Jisung whispers.

He can see the gears turning, and the lightbulb goes off when Minho grins. “You’re full?”

Jisung nods, wondering how Minho can smile when this situation is clearly among the Top Ten Most Devastating Moments In Jisung’s Life, but Minho snaps his fingers and pulls a brownish rectangle out of nowhere.

Jisung squints. “What is that and where did it come from.”

“It’s a cardboard box!” Minho says, smile getting even bigger. “And it came from in here.” He pulls open his blazer and gestures to the secret pocket inside. “I always bring one.”

Jisung just looks at it. “What’s it for?”

“Idiot,” Minho laughs, so soft it hardly sounds like an insult. “I’m gonna put cheesecake in here. We’ll take it home and you can eat it later.”

“I love you,” Jisung says, dumbfounded. Minho blinks at him once, twice, three times. His face is washed with a soft pink glow. The lights must have changed.

“What—what kind do you want?” he asks, fiddling with the box. His voice is a little quieter, now. “I—they have … they had a bunch of different kinds last year.”

“Any kind is wonderful! I trust you.”

And off Minho goes. The lights make his ears red.

He comes back two minutes later, box in hand, and he slides his blazer off his shoulders to tuck the box inside. “So I don’t forget it’s there,” he says, and Jisung nods.

And then Minho’s taking his hand and tugging him up. “Ready to dance?”

“Oh, hyung—you know? I really would love to, but—”

“No buts,” Minho says. He taps his thumb on one of Jisung’s knuckles. “This is an event for a dance studio, dummy. You must’ve known you’d be dancing.”

“I, uh. Forgot?”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I didn’t. But I’m not a good dancer!” Jisung whines, grasping Minho’s other hand and pulling him to face Jisung entirely.

“You’re a great dancer.”

Jisung raises an eyebrow, and Minho grins.

“We’re surrounded by trained dancers, Jiji. You’re not gonna be the best. I’m definitely not.”

Jisung rolls his eyes. “You’ve had, like, what, seven thousand years of experience, and—”

“I’m gonna stop you right there, baby. First off, it’s five thousand years. How old do you think I am? Second, just one song? Please? I really do wanna dance.”

Jisung sighs. “You can dance without me, you know.”

Minho swings their joined hands in between them. “I don’t want to.” And God, he’s pouting now, and it really shouldn’t be this easy for Minho to break him but before Jisung knows it he’s caving.

“Fine. One dance.”

Minho’s face lights up.

"It has to be slow, though. I’m not about to make a fool of myself out there.”

“You’re gonna do that no matter what,” Minho says sweetly.

Jisung narrows his eyes at him.

“Just kidding!” He brings one of Jisung’s hands up to his mouth so he can kiss the back of it. “You’re the bestest dancer here and I love you.”

Jisung looks down at the ground to try and hide his smile. He doesn’t think it works.

“Are you ready to fucking rage?” Minho whispers in Jisung’s ear as a slow, sweet song comes on.

Jisung sighs exaggeratedly. “I suppose.”

So Minho leads him more into the center of the room, where a group of people is already dancing. And while Jisung does not slow dance a lot, he does watch a lot of romance movies. Which is practically the same thing, when you think about it. Really, the only difference is that in the movies they never step on each other’s feet, but how realistic can that be, anyway?

Besides, Minho doesn’t seem to mind, only gives a little smile every time Jisung steps on his feet. If anything, that’s a win, because Minho’s eyes are shining under the fancy chandelier lights, and watching how they crinkle up so softly makes Jisung feel warm.

Or maybe that’s just the way Minho’s holding him. He’s secure, here, where Minho’s got an arm around Jisung’s waist, and Jisung’s got a hand resting on Minho’s shoulder, his fingers drumming out a soft rhythm into the silky fabric of Minho’s dress shirt. His other hand is in Minho’s, with Minho’s fingers folded over his.

Yeah. He’s secure here.

Jisung still doesn’t quite know what he’s doing, but it’s not like he has to. He’s here, with Minho, and it’s no different from the way they dance around in Jisung’s kitchen.

There’s something softer about Minho, in this light. It’s like he’s glowing.

He’s magic, Jisung thinks. Not through his blood, like Jisung is. Through … through him. Him as a whole. He’s so warm; he’s so warm and so bright and so, so good.

He’s the magic Jisung has been chasing all his life, but now that Minho’s here? It’s nothing monumental, nothing world-stopping, just something comfortable. Something lovely.

“You’re lovely,” Jisung says.

Minho’s nothing like what Jisung expected the magic of his life to be, but as Jisung watches Minho’s mouth curve and his eyes shine he can’t think of a single thing he’d change.

“And you’re stepping on my foot.”

If Jisung took a picture, now, of Minho and his breathless laugh, it’d be worth a hundred thousand words.

“You’re not asleep, are you?”

“Mmm …” Jisung mumbles into Minho’s shoulder. “Nope.”

“I don’t know, Jisungie. You sound pretty sleepy.”

“And whose fault is that?”

It’s Minho’s fault, of course, because Minho’s the one who convinced Jisung to keep dancing even after his one allotted song was over, and Minho’s the one who’s just leading them around in lazy circles, and Minho’s the one who’s holding Jisung so close, and Minho’s the one who’s making Jisung feel all warm, which means that all of this is one hundred percent his fault.

“Yours, dummy.”

“How is it mine? Last time I checked, you couldn’t control the way you feel.”

“If I were feeling sleepy, I’d simply say no thanks.” Jisung can hear the smile in Minho’s voice. “Rip to your inability to control everything in your body but I’m different.”

Jisung nestles his face into the crook of Minho’s neck so he can’t see Jisung’s smile.

“I know you’re smiling.”

“I’m doing no such thing,” Jisung grumbles, very much smiling.

“I can literally feel the way you want to laugh.” When Jisung says nothing, Minho curls his fingers in the hair at the nape of Jisung’s neck and presses a kiss to Jisung’s hair. “C’mon, baby, let’s go home.”

Melanie curls around Jisung’s ankles the moment he steps inside.

“Damn,” Minho sighs. He looks down at Melanie. “Can’t you at least wait until I’ve taken my shoes off to show your obvious favoritism?”

“Told you,” Jisung sing-songs. “Maybe if you were a witch …” He bends down to pick her up. She climbs up his shoulders to settle around his neck like a purring scarf.

“Teach me sometime, then, yeah?”

“Of course I can!” Jisung beams.

Minho turns around at that. “Wait, you can? I thought it was, like, a biological thing.”

“Only partially.” Jisung shrugs. “Magic’s just … it’s just knowing what you wanna put into something and doing it. That’s it, really.”

“Huh. I never thought about it like that.”

“Thank goodness you have me, then,” Jisung says, lifting up Minho’s arm and twirling under it.

Minho takes Jisung’s other hand and pulls Jisung into his chest, grinning at the little ‘oof’ Jisung lets out. “Yeah,” he says, eyes shining. “Thank goodness I have you.”

“Oh, good, you found the makeup wipes,” Minho says, sidling in next to Jisung. He pokes Jisung in the side.

“Hey,” Jisung whines, squirming away. “Leave my tummy alone.”

“Put a shirt on, then.”

“No.”

By the time Jisung’s put the moisturizer back in the cabinet, Minho’s practically asleep against the wall. Jisung grins at him, before taking his hand and tugging him up onto his feet.

Well. Trying to tug him up onto his feet may be more accurate.

“C’mon,” he hums when Minho doesn’t budge. “Let’s get you to bed, love.”

Minho goes willingly at that, letting Jisung pull him up and half-carry him into the bedroom. He turns so Jisung can’t see his face.

Jisung settles in first, taking the side closer to the wall. He opens his arms up and it’s apparently what Minho was waiting for, because in the next second he’s toppling on top of Jisung, wiggling around until his face is buried in the crook of Jisung’s neck. He’s warm against Jisung’s shoulder.

Jisung ruffles Minho’s hair, messing it around. “What’s got you so sleepy tonight?” He can hear the smile in his own voice, which means even three-quarters-unconscious Minho can hear it too. Oh, well. Nothing wrong with Minho knowing he’s smiling.

“‘M comfy.”

“I see.” Jisung keeps combing through Minho’s hair.

Minho sighs, his entire body relaxing against Jisung’s chest. “Hmm. Good night. Love you.”

“Love you.” Jisung tilts his head and presses a kiss to Minho’s temple. “Sleep well, baby.”

He plays with Minho’s hair until he, too, falls asleep.

“What’d you think?” Minho asks, crouching down next to Jisung and leaning back against the mirror.

“It looked amazing!” Jisung says, looking up at the dancers. They’re out of their ending formation now, stretching and talking, but they all turn towards Jisung when he speaks. “You all are very talented, and your effort really shows through! And also your hair looks cool swinging with your heads.”

“Yeah, Yeji!” one of the dancers crows, nudging Yeji with their elbow. Yeji smiles, flustered, at Jisung before turning to smack them.

“Are you still okay here?” Minho asks, leaning closer so Jisung can hear him over the commotion. “There’s a couch in the office, if you wanna work in there instead.”

Jisung shifts his laptop where it’s resting on his legs. “No, I think I’m good, hyung. I like being here with you.”

“Alright, just let me know if you need anything,” Minho says, using Jisung’s shoulder to push himself back up on his feet.

With the beginning of the now-familiar song coursing back through the room, joined by Minho’s occasional comments, Jisung breathes easily.

When practice is over, Minho shuffles back over to Jisung.

"How we doing?"

Jisung looks up and winces at the movement. There's a crick in his neck after leaning over his laptop for so long. "Good," he says, and he's reaching back to rub his neck when Minho intercepts his hand.

"Let me." And then Minho's crouching down, and his fingers are digging deep into the sore part of Jisung's neck and, well. Jisung melts into his touch. "Dummy," Minho hums. He pushes Jisung's laptop closed with his other hand, then cups his cheek to keep his head from tipping forward. "Your body's important, too. You gotta take care of it."

"Mmhmm," Jisung hums, closing his eyes. Minho's hands are so warm.

"Don't you fall asleep on me now," Minho warns. Is he smiling? It sounds like he's smiling.

Jisung peeks up at him, and sure enough, there's a soft smile curving his mouth. It makes Jisung feel warm. And, unfortunately enough, even sleepier.

"C'mon, Jisungie." Minho taps Jisung's forehead, and Jisung can feel him standing up next to him. "Up you get." When Jisung does nothing but open his eyes and pout, Minho sighs. "Alright, you big baby. We can get coffee before we go to the bookstore."

That gets Jisung's attention. He jumps right to his feet, forgetting that he’s been sitting in the same position for a couple hours. He’d’ve fallen right back down if Minho hadn’t steadied him.

“Thanks, hyung,” he grins sheepishly.

Minho rolls his eyes, but his smile breaks through. “Where would you be without me,” he says, and it’s quiet but Jisung’s not too far away to hear.

“I think the real question here is where would you be without me,” Jisung says, reaching forward and running his hands through Minho’s hair. “Really, it’s all messed up. Come on, hyung, there’s a whole mirror wall in here.”

“Are you sure it’s not messed up ‘cause you’re messing it up?”

Jisung gasps. “I would never! I’m fixing it for you.” He flashes Minho a winning smile.

Minho looks unconvinced.

Jisung brushes his hair back one more time before curling his hands around to cup Minho's face. "Much better," he hums, a big, big smile taking over his face. Minho's arms tighten around Jisung's waist, and he moves a little bit closer.

Their noses are almost touching. Minho goes cross-eyed trying to keep Jisung in sight. Jisung giggles, tapping his fingers against the soft skin under Minho’s jaw.

He feels Minho shift beneath his fingertips, feels him take a deep breath. And then feels him take the smallest of steps forward.

And then the door swings open.

“Hey, Minho, d’you have a sec to—oh shit, sorry for interrupting, I’ll just—”

“No, no, it’s all good,” Minho says, giving the red-faced student a welcoming smile. “What did you need?”

Jisung takes the moment to start packing up his things. He walks back over to Minho’s side just as the student gives him a slip of paper.

“I’ll get this right back to you,” Minho says, grinning that bright grin of his, before ruffling their hair. “With my letter of recommendation? All the best schools will come running after you, I just know it.”

Jisung mouths along from behind Minho, exaggerating his expressions and flapping his hands like they’re talking. The student tries to hide their smile.

“He’s doing it behind me, isn’t he.” Jisung doesn’t have to see Minho to know what face he’s making.

“See you next week, sunbae,” the student says, before scampering out.

“Han Jisungie.” Minho whirls around, fixing Jisung with a glare.

“Yes, hyung, my favoritest person in the whole wide world?” For good measure, he takes one of Minho’s hands and holds it with both of his own.

Minho’s toothy grin flashes out before he can stop it. “Ready … ready to go?”

“Yep!” Jisung cheers, bringing Minho’s hand up and pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

“Why did you do that?” Minho asks, intertwining his fingers with Jisung’s.

Jisung looks up at Minho. Minho, with his hair already falling back over his forehead and his cheeks pink. “I wanted to.”

Minho’s eyes shine, and he moves the arm that Jisung’s holding captive around, spinning Jisung under his elbow like they’re back below the ever-changing lights of the dance floor.

There it is. That magic again. It’s … it’s right. It’s right, and it’s good.

Minho digs around in his bag with one hand to lock the studio door behind them, keeping Jisung’s hand in the other.

“No food or drinks inside,” Jeongin says the second his eyes land on Jisung.

Jisung takes a sip of his hot chocolate, keeping eye contact. “That’s not even a rule.”

Jeongin ignores him, pushing the cart of books into another aisle. “Hi, Minho-hyung!”

Minho beams. “Hi, Innie.”

“He did what?”

“I’m completely serious! Just stood there. He forgot every last thing he was supposed to say!”

Minho’s laugh is loud and bright and warm. Warm enough that Jisung doesn’t mind that it’s him Minho is laughing at.

“I knew I’d regret introducing you two,” Jisung cries, wiping away pretend tears, “but I didn’t think it would be so soon.”

“Hyung,” Jeongin says. His smile is just a tad too sinister. “If you don’t want to be embarrassed, don’t be embarrassing.”

“Yeah!” Minho jumps in. “Also, you did the exact same thing to me when you met my coworkers. This is simply karma.”

Jisung’s phone buzzes in his pocket, thankfully providing an escape to a battle he wouldn’t’ve won.

_Dreme teme (4)_

_lix_ **_♡_ **

_FRIENDS_

_THE VEGAEST OF TORIS_

_SHES_

_BACK_

_Jisung_

_VICTIORSO?????????_

_BLESSS_

_lix_ **_♡_ **

_MARATHIONN_

_ASAP_

_channie_

_Translation: Victorious is back on netflix_

_Marathon at our place?_

_Jisung_

_yes!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_

_hyung and i are in :D :D :D_

_lix_ **_♡_ **

_Heck yes_

_Jisung_

_omg can innie come_

_lix_ **_♡_ **

_HECK YES_

“Please lock your door. Just. Please just do it. Stop leaving your home vulnerable to—”

Chan pulls Jisung into a big hug, muffling the lecture. “If we locked the door, you couldn’t come in for hugs!”

“Don’t—no, that’s not the point—stop being so comfy and cute I’m trying to reprimand you—”

Chan passes him off to Felix, and he is muffled again.

“My dearest Lixie,” Jisung whispers. “Please lock your door.”

Felix kisses the side of his head. “Hannie!”

Well. Jisung tried his best. He lets Minho coax him away with a warm hand on his back.

“How does everyone else know Jeongin?” Minho whispers to Jisung as the loading screen for the first episode pops up, glancing over at Jeongin, who is sandwiched neatly between Felix and Chan.

“He and Felix go to the same college. The nerdy one.”

“Ah, yes,” Minho snorts. “NCSK, the most prestigious Nerdy College in all of South Korea. Think I’ve heard of it.”

“Indeed. They’ve got matching hoodies and everything.”

“Oh, really? I didn’t even notice.”

Jisung giggles, shifting around so he’s curled up with his head resting in Minho’s lap. “That’s cause you’re, like. Major oblivious, hyung.”

Felix and Jeongin start laughing at the same time.

“I feel like they’re laughing at me,” Jisung says.

“Aw, Jisungie.” He feels Minho’s fingers start to card through his hair. “They definitely are.”

“Guys, I think you’ve taken enough pictures—”

“You want them for the wedding video, right?”

“Don’t use flash, dummy! You’ll wake him up.”

“Jisung!”

“Well, if the flash didn’t wake him up, that certainly did.”

“Hannie! It’s the episode where they make the movie in class!”

Jisung’s eyes open at that. “Hmn?”

“I knew that would work,” Felix says triumphantly. “It’s his favorite episode.”

“I fell asleep?”

“Why are you surprised?” Chan asks. “Minho is a pretty consistent pillow for you.”

“Yeah,” Jisung huffs, resituating himself on his consistent pillow. He hears Minho laugh from above him. “‘Cause he’s warm, and I love him.”

Felix makes a noise, somewhere between a squeak and a laugh. Jeongin hurriedly grabs the remote and starts the next episode.

Jisung reaches back. Minho must’ve been reading his mind, Jisung thinks as Minho meets him halfway, lacing their fingers together.

Jisung breathes when he opens the window.

The moon’s golden tonight, hanging heavy over the city. It spilled over the sidewalk as he made his way home, and it’s spilling in here, too, over the windowsill and dripping onto the quilt draped over the end of his couch.

Jisung’s phone lights up, and in the next second he’s pressing the _Accept_ button.

“Hey,” comes Minho’s voice, quiet and soft.

“Hey, hyung.”

He hears rustling on the other end. “No, no, don’t eat your treat over there, Mellie, that’s your sister’s bed. That’s not good roommate manners. Hey!” His voice fades out for a second. “Maybe if you were here, Jisungie, they’d finally behave.”

“I told you,” Jisung hums, a warm smile curving his mouth. “You just gotta become a witch.”

“Oh, really? You never did tell me how such a thing could happen.”

“I did tell you! I can teach you.”

“And when would this lesson occur?”

Jisung shrugs, even though Minho can’t see him. “Whenever you want.”

“Hm … how about … right now?”

Jisung giggles. “I have a feeling you’re joking with that, but yes. Come on over; we can make hot chocolate!”

“Well, you know I’d never pass up an opportunity for hot chocolate. I’ll be there in twenty.”

He knows Minho’s smiling too. “M’kay. See you in twenty.”

The moon’s golden tonight, hanging heavy over the city, and it’s got this deep, deep magic hanging heavy in the air.

It washes over Jisung as he curls up on the couch, right where the moonlight’s flowing in. This, right here—this is where he wants to be.

The only thing he’d change about it changes when he hears a knock on the door.

“Hey, Jisungie,” Minho says.

“Hey,” Jisung replies, before reaching out to take Minho’s hand, pulling him inside.

Minho follows willingly, only slowing down to take his shoes off and place them neatly next to Jisung’s. “I like your socks,” he says.

Jisung wiggles his toes, showing off his very wonderful narwhal socks. “Why, thank you! They’re my fancy ones.”

Minho raises his eyebrows. “Oh?”

“Yep! Like how some people have fine china that they bring out to impress guests. I have fine fuzzy socks!”

“Aw, you wanna impress me, Jiji?” Minho asks, hip-checking Jisung. “I’m flattered.”

“Yeah,” Jisung grumbles, rubbing his hip. “You should be.”

Minho takes his other hand so Jisung’s facing him head on. “Does this make me special?”

Jisung rolls his eyes and lets go of Minho’s hand, turning away so Minho can’t see him smile. It’s probably pointless. “Maybe just a little bit,” he admits, voice quiet.

“Yay,” Minho grins, warm and golden like the moon.

Jisung looks at him for a second. Just to see him, to see his shining eyes and his messy hair and his soft yellow sweater. Warm and golden like the magic they’re breathing in.

“I believe I was promised both a lesson and some hot chocolate.”

“Hm …” Jisung strokes his chin. “What if I told you … I could do them both at once?”

“I’d think you were trying to get rid of me.”

“Maybe I am. What was I thinking, inviting you into my home?”

“Alright, so, first thing I gotta know about being a witch is under no circumstances should I be welcoming nor accommodating towards visitors in my house.”

“That’s right! But,” Jisung pauses for dramatic effect, hopping up onto the kitchen counter and swinging his feet. “The second thing you gotta know is when to make an exception.”

Minho steps forward until he’s standing between Jisung’s knees, absentmindedly picking off the pills on Jisung’s sweatpants. “And what’re we thinking? Am I worthy of an exception?”

“Jury’s still out.”

Minho smiles. “I’ll take that.” And then he’s reaching forward to run his fingers up and down Jisung’s sides.

“I feel the need to tell you,” Jisung says, barely holding back a laugh. “If you tickle me, you will be immediately removed from the premises.”

“I would never, ever do something like that,” Minho says, so serious and definite that for a moment Jisung’s distracted. And then Minho tickles him, and Jisung leaps off the counter and very nearly knocks the both of them over.

“So!” Minho claps his hands together, once they’ve righted themselves. “Hot chocolate.”

“Yep!” Jisung says, jumping to open the cabinet and draw out the jar of jaggery. “Remember this?”

“Indeed I do.”

“Well! We’re gonna use it in the hot chocolate.”

Minho’s blinking in that way he does when he’s trying to take it all in. Jisung hands him ingredients, and he does everything so carefully, like he’s scared to mess it up.

“I just … I wanna get this right,” he mumbles, when Jisung mentions it.

“You’re doing much better than I did on my first try,” Jisung laughs, brandishing his scarred hands. Minho takes them and holds them up, his thumb running across one of the longer marks.

“Accidents?” he asks.

“Yeah. Magic can be tricky when you’re a dumb teenager.”

“I’m sure you know all about being a dumb teenager,” Minho grins, and before Jisung can narrow his eyes he’s kissing the backs of both of Jisung’s hands. “There! All better now.”

“All better now,” Jisung echoes, looking back up at Minho.

The moonlight’s falling through the kitchen window; falling, Jisung’s sure, for the sole purpose of finding Minho. Warm, and golden, and good. (And good, and good, and good.)

Minho falters when it’s time to melt in the jaggery.

“This is the magic part, yeah?”

Jisung nods.

“And, uh. Like … how do you do it? Like, do I have to get out my wand and cast a spell, or what?”

Jisung giggles. “No, none of that. You just kinda. Feel. Y’know? Like. Magic’s knowing what you want to do, and then doing it. It’s feeling. That’s all.”

“So what do I do with that feeling?”

“Focus on it. What do you feel, right now?” Minho looks up and meets Jisung’s eyes. He didn’t need to ask. He knows exactly what Minho’s feeling. “What do you want this magic to be? Whatever it is, just imagine it, like, welling up inside you.”

“And then?”

“And then you let it out.”

Jisung gets the cat mug out first.

“It looks amazing!” he cheers, when Minho pours the hot chocolate. “You’re already better at magic; I really should’ve had you teach me.”

“Shut up,” Minho mutters, but there’s a silly little smile on his face.

They take their mugs and sit on the couch, Minho with his back against the armrest and Jisung an arm’s length away, sitting criss-cross applesauce to face him.

When Jisung takes a sip, there’s this light that swells up inside him, weaving through him, all the way down to his fingers. It’s warm, and it’s good, and it’s so purely Minho that he can’t help but shiver.

“Is that an it’s-good shiver, or an I’ve-never-had-something-quite-so-terrible one?”

“It’s good,” Jisung says, so softly he’s surprised Minho can hear him. “You’re good.”

He meets Minho’s eyes, and there it is. There’s the moonlight. “I’m glad,” Minho whispers back.

So they stay there, letting Jisung’s neighbor’s wind chimes fill in the gaps of their murmured conversation.

“They’re pretty.”

“They are! You have wind chimes, too, right? Out on your balcony. Those make such a lovely sound—like, not too chimey, and not too ominous.”

“Ominous, huh?”

“Yeah, you know, like, some of them are just. Too echoey, and too deep. They sound spooky.”

“Spooky. Well, I know my Jisungie is easily scared, so we wanna avoid that at all costs.”

“Yours are pretty.” Jisung sighs. “Actually, your whole place is pretty. There’s always music, and snacks that I like, and kittens!”

“Don’t lie. I know you only like my place ‘cause of the kittens.”

Jisung gasps. “I do not! That’s only, like … seventy percent of the reason.”

“And what’s the other thirty?”

“Feels like home.”

Minho mirrors Jisung’s shy smile as he replies. “Well, it’s always open to you. My music, the snacks you like, and,” he sighs a long-suffering sigh, “I suppose the kittens too.”

“And you?” Jisung asks. “Since you love me dearly.”

Minho shrugs. “And me. I guess.”

“You’re the most like home, you know that?”

“Aw, shucks,” Minho says, putting his hands over his cheeks. “You must really love me, huh.”

Minho’s drenched in the golden moonlight, and he’s alight with all its magic, and Jisung wants to be close to him.

Jisung wants to be close to him, and stay close to him, and hold his hand, and he wants—

“Minho?” he asks. He wants.

“Mm?”

“Can I kiss you?”

He wants to kiss Minho.

Minho, with his yellow sweater and his warm hands and his adorable silly voice reserved for talking to his cats.

Minho, with his heart so full of warmth that it shines through in everything he does. Everything he is.

Minho, who’s nodding, and whose eyes shine as Jisung leans forward, whose eyes flutter shut as Jisung kisses him.

It’s nice. It’s just them, really, just Jisung pressing his mouth to Minho’s, and it’s just for a couple seconds.

It … it feels right. Which is why Jisung’s not scared as he pulls away. He and Minho … they’ve always felt the same things, after all.

He sees Minho’s eyes open a moment later. They’re shining. He’s shining, really, and he looks at Jisung so fondly, so sweetly. Like Jisung’s something precious.

With Minho, here, Jisung feels like something precious.

“Why did you do that?” Minho whispers. He’s blinking, and blinking, and it’s just. It’s so endearing.

“I wanted to.” Jisung smiles, big enough it hurts his cheeks. “I really, really wanted to.”

Minho’s so bright, and he’s so lovely, and his smile—oh, his smile. He kisses Jisung this time, tugging him closer and closer still. His mouth is so warm. His nose brushes against Jisung’s cheek.

When Jisung’s arms start to shake from holding himself up, Minho reaches forward without a second thought and Jisung goes willingly, falling right into him. He cups Minho’s cheek, runs a hand through his hair, trails down his neck, flutters across his collarbones, just to feel Minho underneath his fingertips.

He feels secure, here. Secure, and warm, and good. Minho’s arms are the safest place in the world, and Jisung’s melting into them. Melting into him, really. Into all that he is.

Minho kisses so gently, so tenderly, and when his mouth falls open it’s like he’s trying to pour all that tenderness into Jisung. Jisung can’t help but sigh at the feeling, pressing close until their chests are touching. Minho’s heart beats underneath him.

He tastes like something warm and good. Like hot chocolate, like jaggery, like that shaft of golden light that peeks through leaves and falls in patches through clouds.

He slows down, just for a second, just enough to lean back the slightest bit and look at Jisung.

“You’re … you’re magical,” he breathes. “You know that?”

Jisung giggles. “It’s kinda … part of being a witch.” Minho rolls his eyes. Jisung kisses the corner of his mouth. “You’re the magical one.”

“‘S kinda part of being in love with a witch.” Minho finds Jisung’s hand, grasping it tight, tracing the scars with his fingers.

Minho’s in love with him. Minho loves him, as he is, and he loves Jisung’s scars and his magic and his dumb jokes and Jisung wants to stay next to him.

“My love,” Jisung says, voice soft in the golden air. “You’re the magic of my life.”

Jisung leans in again, or maybe Minho does, and Jisung feels a wave of content washing over him. Is this how it feels? he wonders. Is this how it feels when it’s someone else’s emotions spilling out?

It’s nice.

It’s so, so nice, and Jisung gets lost in Minho’s touch and his mouth and the little sounds he’s making and that … that comfort that always comes with being with him.

This, right here. This is it, for him.

This is where he wants to be.

Jisung wakes up to the chiming of an alarm.

“Mhm?” is the most coherent response he can muster up.

“‘M sorry,” Minho mumbles, reaching blindly over to Jisung’s nightstand to try and turn it off. It takes him a couple tries, judging by the repeated sounds of his hand hitting wood.

“What time’s it?”

“7:43.”

“And why, pray tell, are we waking up at 7:43? On a Sunday?” Jisung asks, pushing himself up on an elbow to look at Minho.

“My cats,” Minho says, squinting up at Jisung through the light streaming in around them. “They must be fed.”

So he sits up, and he stares blankly at the wall for a second before twisting around to look at Jisung.

Maybe it’s his messy hair, or the lines pressed into his face from Jisung’s pillow. Maybe it’s his still-heavy eyes, or his lazy smile, or Jisung’s t-shirt strung across his shoulders.

“C’mon,” Jisung hums, reaching out and tugging at the hem. “Up you get. Let’s go.”

Maybe it’s just Minho, so warm and comfortable that Jisung can’t help but adore him. He follows where Jisung pulls him, up and into the bathroom to brush their teeth.

“Just so you know, I’m not changing.” Minho mumbles through his mouthful of toothpaste.

Jisung snorts, rubbing in his moisturizer. “I didn’t expect you to.”

“Rip to people who get dressed before noon, but I’m different.”

“You are indeed, my love.” Jisung tries to pat him on the shoulder, but he misses. “We should honestly just go back to bed at yours.”

“We could,” Minho offers. “Haha, just kidding … unless?”

So Minho grabs his keys, and Jisung grabs a clementine from his fruit bowl. He waits until the mint from his toothpaste is out of his mouth before peeling it.

He feeds half the pieces to Minho. They chew together, in silence, Minho too sleepy to focus on anything but the road and Jisung just … enjoying the peace. He doesn’t get many early mornings with Minho, but this is nice. Sharing this space with him.

The gray light peeks through the clouds like they’re underwater.

Jisung presses the last slice of the clementine to Minho’s mouth like a secret.

Minho takes out the container of cat food, and Jisung scratches Tara between the ears as she curls around his ankles.

Minho tugs Jisung back into his bedroom, and Jisung follows.

Minho sprawls out on top of Jisung like a little starfish, and Jisung pulls the covers back over them.

Minho sighs when Jisung kisses him on the forehead, and Jisung loves him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, starting this fic: lets keep it short !! i have it all planned out to 25k !!  
> me, writing this fic: h
> 
> [playlistie](https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=8hcgHzfldWQ&list=PL2EJG-r4L00KfabGMFwr9d8gfoKdyML0C)  
> Walk In The Sun — McFly  
> Daydreamer — Adele  
> flowers — in love with a ghost ft. nori  
> So, Soo Pretty — LANY  
> fallingforyou — The 1975  
> Say Yes — SEVENTEEN  
> Lover, Please Stay — Nothing But Thieves  
> Sun and Moon — Sam Kim  
> Lover — Taylor Swift  
> Circus — TAEYEON  
> Insomnia — Stray Kids  
> The Last Of The Real Ones — Fall Out Boy  
> Timebomb — WALK THE MOON  
> Highway to Heaven — NCT 127  
> You Better Know — Red Velvet  
> Find Me — TAEYEON  
> Adore You — Harry Styles  
> Milk — The 1975  
> Sucker — Broods  
> Candy (so good) — The Rose  
> Orphans — Coldplay  
> I Can — Day6  
> Canyon Moon — Harry Styles  
> This Must Be My Dream — The 1975  
> It's Time — Imagine Dragons  
> State of Grace — Taylor Swift  
> After Moon — TWICE  
> Always — Panic! At The Disco  
> 11:11 — TAEYEON
> 
> yes i wrote this entire fic in comic sans and what about it
> 
> hh i really cant believe it's over !! this fic has been a part of my life for a v long time and im actually proud of it (a rare feat, i know) and i just put a lot of myself into it
> 
> believe me when i say thank you thank you thank you, everyone reading this who has loved it and left your lovely lovely comments (which made me cry, thanks) and just !! enjoyed it with me ,, yall truly are wonderful !! i love you !! if anyone ever dares hurt your precious hearts drop the location i will throw hands for u
> 
> youre the magic of my life <3
> 
> and a question: would u ... like to see more of this universe ?? i have v many ideas that could be written so bls let me know !!
> 
> (also stay tuned ;-) for undisclosed wips)
> 
> fun tidbit about this story: melanie and tara are based off some very lovely ladies in my life !!  
>   
>   
>   
> 


	5. just a note

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'll delete this note later <3

hello my loves <3

i hope you all are doing well, and keeping yourselves safe and happy with all that's been going on

i'm making the decision to take woojin out of this story completely. i'd like it to be a comforting, safe, and loving experience for everyone reading and i think this is the best way to keep it like that.

idk how long it will take but it'll be in editing <3

thank you always for supporting me and our eight lovely boys

please take care of yourselves !! lots is going on right now but you are precious and dear

[here](https://youtu.be/G1mWfvbcjcI) is a lovely video if you need something to smile about

i love you all !! if you need someone to talk to then im [here](https://taeyeonsb.tumblr.com) !! mwah !!


	6. another note !!!!

hello my lovey loves !! its been a while huh ..

ive been .. pretty inactive SNDSSDKJ yall pls forgive me

i was planning to delete the last note (chapter 5) but u all left such lovely comments i couldn’t bear to delete them hehe so here we are !!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

as of nov 22, 2020 this fic is completely ot8 !! i hope it stays a warm and comfortable experience for you because it’s all you deserve !!!!!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

to those of you who have read this and continue to read this: thank you thank you thank you for all your unending support ;-; it rly means the world and every kudos adds 1 year to my life, every comment adds 5

to readers of i’m still (i’m here) ...... i PROMISE im not giving up on it sknskndskn i just wanted to focus on this first hehe

to any atinys .......... keep ur eyes out .... ;]

and to any moas .................. ;] do the same ;]

(also to my moas: if u wanna check out [my heart overflows again](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27424159) i highly recommend .. it was gifted to me by my dearest kit and i love it with my whole heart 🥺)

to everyone: i thank you again for being yourselves in a world that makes it so hard !!! u r loved and u r all very sexy . mwah !!!

if any of u lovely souls need someone to scream at or talk to im [here](https://taeyeonsb.tumblr.com/) !! if u need sm to laugh at .. [here](https://youtu.be/IFcyYnUHVBA) .. and if u need sm to smile at .. [here](https://youtu.be/psGDf2VrvK8) !!!!!

love u all !!! mwah !!! stay beautiful <3

**Author's Note:**

> [playlist!](https://music.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL2EJG-r4L00KfabGMFwr9d8gfoKdyML0C)  
> thanks for stopping by my lovelies <3
> 
> lmk what u think !! im like a mf parking ticket .. needs to be validated .. lmao
> 
> the loveliest boy aka kit aka [jisungshotfirst](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jisungshotfirst/works) (both on here and on [tumblr](https://jisungshotfirst.tumblr.com/)) has made me .. a moodboard for this fic .. and i wanted to share it here with you all because it is inarguably the most beautiful thing ever created .. just like the [other one](https://jisungshotfirst.tumblr.com/post/613237662182162432/wonder-under-summer-sky-pieii-stray-kids) he made for [wonder under summer sky](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21810844) because he's a legend and i love him
> 
>   
>   
> my [tumblr](https://lucyepiccrash.tumblr.com/) n [kpop tumblr](https://taeyeonsb.tumblr.com/) if u wanna say hi or read some other skz fics !!
> 
> have a beautiful day !! love you dearly and see you later


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